The void battlefield was in chaos, with lasers and torpedoes everywhere.
The battle between the orc fleet and the human fleet was extremely brutal.
But the moment the subspace rift appeared.
Everyone in the empire couldn't help but look towards the subspace rift that was emitting such strong light.
A colossal ship designed by the Emperor himself ten thousand years ago, built in the Warp and made of adamantium and marble, passed through the Great Rift and appeared before everyone.
A majestic eagle with outstretched wings formed the bow of his ship, and the hull was inlaid with exquisite statues and temples.
It was a starship, unmatched by any other ship on the battlefield.
In the vast galaxy, only a unique hero can be worthy of this battleship.
The Queen of Glory-class ship, flagship of the Thirteen Primarchs, Macragge's Glory, arrived at the battlefield at this moment.
It is the symbol of the empire, and wherever it goes, it represents the victory of mankind.
All the imperial ships cheered excitedly as the Glorious Queen-class battleship appeared.
Everyone was shouting one person's name in unison.
Guilliman.
Isser could hardly hide the tears on her face.
Even though he had undergone nerve adjustment surgery, his excitement at this moment broke through the shackles of rationality.
What an honor it is that the Primarch is here in person.
Swarms of battleships followed Macragge's Glory and leapt out of the warp.
Any one of them is enough to determine the outcome of a space station battle.
At this moment, they all formed an indestructible spear with Macragge's Glory as the center, determined to destroy all enemies.
There was no time to wait for the Geller force field to close before this massive Imperial fleet joined the battlefield.
Rays of scorching light hit the tail and flanks of the orc warship.
Rows of torpedoes fan out in a deadly trajectory through space.
Then came high-yield nuclear missiles, rushing out from the launch port in dense numbers.
The tail flames of the thrusters drew a huge net in the void, entangling all the enemies along the way.
Dense flames lit up in the orc fleet.
One after another, the Orc ships were caught off guard and burned to ashes by the terrible firepower of the Imperial fleet.
The deadly high temperature and explosive power of the nuclear bomb were compressed into an extremely small range, and no matter how thick the orc warship was, it was difficult to withstand it.
The triggered torpedoes burst into fierce flames, instantly engulfing the orcs' small warships.
The spears of light tore through the orc ships like butter, turning them into cosmic wreckage.
The orc leader was enraged by the sudden attack and wanted to roar angrily at the despicable shrimps.
The exploding warship dealt them another heavy blow.
A large number of ships were involved.
Following a series of explosions, the space battlefield was soon filled with debris, forming a metal cloud with a diameter of tens of thousands of kilometers that was still expanding rapidly.
The plasma reactor of the Orc warship exploded again and again.
The brilliant flames illuminated the rapidly expanding metal cloud.
It was like a giant gloomy orc face, roaring silently into the void.
In the gaps between explosions, the glow of the metallic magma made the metal cloud look like a blood-stained sunset.
The orcs increased the power of the battleship's plasma reactor to the critical point and drove the engine to run frantically, risking overheating and explosion at any time.
They want to turn their massive warships around to deal with emerging threats.
This is a big taboo for space battlefields.
Never leave your flanks and rear to the enemy.
Isher did not waste the opportunity created by the Primarch.
Under her amazing command ability, the fleeing imperial warships quickly gathered together and reorganized at an astonishing speed.
The warships adjusted the distance between each other with a high degree of tacit understanding, gathering into a whole that advanced and retreated in unison.
Under her command, the human warships that were originally scattered on the long front line quickly formed an attack formation ready to go.
The orc warships, fighting each other and in chaos, had no way to resist this coordinated and huge offensive.
One by one, the orc warships were reduced to ashes in the explosion.
Even the larger and better organized Orc fleet suffered the most miserable defeat.
The remaining Ork ships attempted to escape to the planet Ramillies 1.
But the Empire's fleet was as relentless as a hunting pack of wolves.
"Burn them to ashes among the stars. No one can challenge the dignity of our race."
Guilliman's voice boomed across every ship's comm, deep, powerful, and inspiring.
Countless people cheered for this.
The fleet obeyed his orders, and torpedoes, missiles, and lances rained down upon the orc ships floating among the wreckage.
A formation of fighter planes flew out from the hangar of the battleship, dragging their tails into the dark void, dancing in the clouds between metal and rock.
The pilots of the fighter formation soon discovered a huge Ork warship struggling among the wreckage.
A huge wound had been torn in the battleship's hull, but the orcs were still trying to restart the battleship's engine.
The fighter formations launched attacks around, inserted through the huge gap, and launched attacks on the core room of the battleship.
Melta bombs ripped through the reactor's shields.
Uncontrolled plasma gushed out from every gap.
The particle flames ignited everything they touched.
Even steel melts at high temperatures.
After completing the attack, the group of fighters broke away from the ten-kilometer-long orc warship and continued to search for new targets.
The dying orc warship also died completely.
The huge body disintegrated in the flames, and the bright firelight once again illuminated the huge metal cloud, becoming part of the huge pile of debris.
The remaining orc fleets fled with difficulty, as large amounts of metal debris blocked their way forward.
The debris flying out from the explosions of other warships has enormous potential energy, and once hit, it is very likely that the hull will be broken.
A few hours later, there was no longer a single active orc warship in the huge metal cloud.
Even the few Ork warships that escaped were caught up and destroyed by the Imperial fleet.
The metallic clouds formed by the explosions of these warships quickly merged with the expanding large cloud, forming a silent tomb.
... ... ... ..
The Ork space forces in the Ramillies system were quickly wiped out as reinforcements brought by Guilliman joined the battlefield.
As the last Ork warship disintegrated in space, the brilliant flames announced the official end of the space battle.
The orcs on the ground were in chaos.
They lost all their space power.
It means that they have become lambs to be slaughtered in the hands of humans.
There is no trace of human beings on the planet Ramillies 1.
There is no need for ground combat.
Guilliman directly issued an extermination order, ordering the fleet to carry out an extermination bombing on the ground.
After the extinction bombing is over, surface troops will be allowed to move in to do the final cleanup.
Using the new technology brought by Guilliman, it is not difficult to reshape the planet's life system.
Even with an extermination order, the ecological environment can be restored within twenty years.
Under the fleet's saturation bombing, the planet Ramillis 1 became a complete death zone.
Even bacteria and viruses were completely killed by the terrible power of the empire.
Wait until everything is settled.
Silver Skull Chapter Master - Opal and Admiral Isher boarded the Glory of Macragge and were received by the Primarch.
They were arranged to wait in a hall.
Opal asked his company commanders to stand in a row and asked them to make their armor as clean and tidy as possible.
He stood at the front, looking a little nervous.
The Silver Skulls have yet to receive a private audience with their Primarch.
They had only seen the Primarch at his swearing-in ceremony.
They never thought that one day they would be able to receive such a close audience.
Iseult wasn't much better.
She, who would not be at all disturbed by the extermination order, was now acting uneasy.
"I'm a little worried that I might be disrespectful in front of the Primarch." Isser stood beside Opal and whispered, "If that happens, it will be really embarrassing for me. I hope I won't make such a low-level mistake."
Isher stood next to Opal, and the height contrast between the two was like a child standing next to a giant man.
She had to look up to talk to Opal.
And Opal had to lower his head to see Iseult next to him.
"I'm not any better than you," Opal whispered. "I can feel my hands sweating. I'm even more nervous than when I faced the Chaos traitors."
"What are you afraid of?" Isher asked with interest.
"I'm not afraid. I'm just worried that the Primarch will blame me for my rudeness. I'm also worried that he will forget who I am. That would be too frustrating. I'm fighting hard, but no one even remembers my name."
Opal whispered, and from his tone, one could tell that he meant these things very seriously.
When Ise heard his words, the uneasiness in her heart disappeared and she smiled instead.
She has been working with the Silver Skulls for a long time.
Before every battle, these guys always talk nonsense.
Tarot readings will also be performed.
Isher never expected that such a brave and fearless people like them would also have an uneasy day.
"I thought you didn't know what fear is?" Isher shrugged, with a rare hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"This is not out of fear, but out of respect for the Primarch," said Opal.
"That's fear. Don't use other excuses to deny it. You're worried that you've been forgotten by the Primarch, right? After all, the Primarch has a lot of work to do. He manages the entire empire and has to devote his attention to formulating strategic plans and commanding battles."
"You are worried that you are insignificant and have long been regarded by the Primarch as a nobody not worth remembering."
Isher looked at Opal's profile. If it weren't for those shocking wounds, he would definitely be very handsome.
Every Space Marine is very handsome, and they have inherited the charm of their genetic father.
I don’t know how many noble ladies have these big guys as their fantasy lovers.
After all, he is a muscular, tall, powerful and charming man.
He always wins the favor of wealthy ladies who are never satisfied.
As long as they are willing to make a move, there will be many noble ladies in the empire who will go crazy for it.
But what makes many noble ladies in the empire sad is that these tall and mighty warriors never show any emotion, and are even unwilling to take a second look at their carefully made-up faces and sexy bodies.
They are cold and cruel, but always remain rational.
Isser once thought that they would never be moved by anything and were as cold as robots.
But now, she knows she was wrong.
They would be as nervous as ordinary people, fearing that they would not be recognized by the Primarch.
"The Silver Skulls are never afraid. We are always loyal to the Emperor. No matter what the reason, we will fight for the Primarch, even if the Primarch does not approve of us or remembers us," said Opal.
Just as Ise was about to say something else, a heavy sound of footsteps was heard.
Many Extreme Warriors standing in the hall knelt on one knee.
Opal and his warriors also learned to kneel on one knee and salute.
Isher turned his head and saw a tall figure walking in surrounded by guards.
When she saw the other person's face, she hurriedly knelt on one knee and saluted.
Isser's heart was pounding.
I felt like my heart would jump out in the next second.
"Stand up, no need to salute." Guilliman's voice was very low and full of charm, making people want to listen.
"You have achieved great results, Captain Opal, Lieutenant General Isser, you have perfectly implemented my strategic arrangements. If it were not for your tactics, this victory would not have been so easy to achieve."
Guilliman walked up to Opal, helped him and Isher up, patted his shoulder armor, and said with a smile.
"I also heard about what you did in the Yelia system. You faithfully carried out my orders and saved a group of enslaved civilians."
"This behavior has made the people of the empire realize that my expedition is not simply to maintain the rule of the empire, but to protect the survival of mankind. I have to express my sincere gratitude and commendation to you."
"Sir, this is our job and we don't deserve your praise." Opal felt a little excited when he heard the Primarch casually say his name and achievements.
The exploits of the Silver Skull were remembered by the Primarch.
"If such achievements and actions are not worthy of praise, then what else is worthy of praise in the many battles of the Indomitable Crusade? Should we praise those stupid politicians or those profit-seeking businessmen?"
"It's only right that the world should be rewarded for doing the right thing."
Guilliman patted Opal's shoulder again, then turned and walked towards the main seat in the hall.
It was a huge marble chair with the imperial double-headed eagle emblem carved on the back and specially plated with gold. It looked low-key, luxurious and restrained.
The chair was specially customized for the original body, and ordinary people simply cannot use such a large chair.
Guilliman sat on it, like an ancient king sitting on his throne.
"Thank you for your compliment." Opal's face showed excitement.
He could feel the sincerity of the Primarch's words, and a strong sense of pride burned within him.
"You have made outstanding contributions to the empire, and this cannot be denied. Once the orc warlords are completely defeated, I will personally present you with the Medal of Honor."
Hearing this, Isher and Opal smiled.
This is absolutely a great honor.
But before they could be happy for a while, Guilliman, who was sitting in the main seat, continued to speak.
"Of course, due to my busy schedule, I can only award medals to the ten most outstanding chapter masters. The others will be given to other people. I hope that one of those ten will be you."
"Captain Opal, Lieutenant General Isser, tell me, are you afraid of competition? If you are afraid, can I make an exception and award you a prize individually?"
Guilliman looked at the two of them with a teasing smile on his face.
"No, sir, Silver Skull is never inferior to others." Opal stood up and said, "We will win that spot fairly."
"That's great." Guilliman smiled, "Then get ready. The fleet will set off for the Gorod system in three days. It is expected to launch a full-scale attack on the Ork warlords in two weeks. Can you maintain your fighting enthusiasm as always?"
"Yes, sir. Our fighting spirit will never be extinguished." Opal said firmly.
"Then I look forward to your performance." Guilliman said with a smile.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... .
Macragge's Glory, training room.
Economist Reddy stands outside the training cage.
She tried not to be so scared that she ran away.
To be honest, she really wanted to turn around and leave.
The training in the training cage is very cruel and it is scary just to watch.
And inside the training cage, Fikris was undergoing training.
He was only wearing a piece of clothing that covered his lower body, leaving his muscular upper body exposed.
The bronze muscles look like they are made of gold and iron, with clear contours, and look very visually impactful.
The muscles perfectly matched each movement, showing that Fikris's control over his body had reached a sensational level.
As long as he wants, he can unleash the power of this muscular body at any time and defeat all enemies with overwhelming force.
After Fikris clicked the rune button to confirm the training.
The cage door that held the fighter slaves was slowly opened.
The machine slaves who walked into the training ground looked sluggish and stiff, and seemed so stupid.
Its eyes looked dull and lifeless, and saliva was flowing from the corners of its mouth.
This is the brass device embedded in its back, a side effect of the combat potion injected into its body.
Half of the machine slave's skull was replaced with steel, and its eyes were replaced with mechanical prosthetic eyes.
One arm was injected with a large amount of growth agent, enhancing it to an inhuman level.
The outline of those muscles is almost as big as an ordinary person's waist.
Half of its elbow was cut off and an extremely sharp sword was implanted in it.
The other arm was replaced with a mechanical one and fitted with circular serrations.
Piston levers are installed on the legs to provide greater explosive power.
Reddy stood outside the training cage and watched Fikris activate the slave machine.
As a burst of electric current surged in, the machine slave's body trembled.
The originally sluggish fighter slave instantly became a murderous machine that existed only to kill its opponents.
Before Reddy could react, the training machine slave attacked Fikris.
The high-speed rotating saw teeth passed through the air, causing a series of piercing, air-tearing sounds.
Fikris swung his sword to block, and a series of sparks burst out.
The communication device implanted in the fighter slave's chest roared like a wild beast.
After the sawtooth was blocked, the machine slave's other hand launched an attack.
The sharp sword embedded in the arm reflected a cold light under the light.
The machine slave used the mechanical eye to lock onto Fikris's weakness and chopped directly at his arm.
The movements were smooth, fast, fierce and accurate, forming an absurd contrast with the slowness and numbness just now.
The machine slave's gaze was no longer dull and silent, but filled with mechanical malice and murderous intent.
Reddy was so frightened that his heart tightened and he subconsciously took a few steps back.
Such a brutal fight would probably take her orders in an instant.
Fikris ducked to avoid the brutal blow, then stabbed the slave's throat.
The long sword pierced the machine slave's throat, announcing the end of the training.
Very short.
The fight between the two sides was decided in an instant of life and death in the blink of an eye.
The indicator light on the machine slave went out, and engine oil and blood flowed out along the sword, but Fikris didn't care.
There will be Chapter servants to pick up these things.
Reddy looked at the mechanical slave who was kneeling on the ground and motionless, and couldn't help but wonder what terrible crime this guy had committed to suffer such a terrible fate.
However, Reddy didn't care about it.
Enemies of the Emperor never deserve mercy.
When Fikris saw Reddy coming, he did not continue to release new machine slaves, but ended the training.
The iron door of the training cage was slowly opened and Fikris stepped out.
"I'm sorry to bother you." Reddy handed over a towel.
"It's okay. How are your preparations going?" Fikris took the towel and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"I contacted a top imperial cake chef, who is currently on his way from 500 light years away. He also brought a batch of fine wines, all of which are treasures. These wines are from my family's collection. In fact, I have never said that my family is good at making wine. It's a pity that I have no interest in the family business, but I still got some good wines."
"Thank you for your help." Fikris said with a smile, "If there is good wine, the wild wolves in the fleet might be excited about it."
"The only question now is, do you know when we are going to celebrate the Primarch's birthday?" Redi asked.
"I will find out about this matter. I have checked the date from some data. During the Great Crusade, the day when the Primarch was adopted by his foster parents was his birthday. If I estimate the time, it will be after the orc warlords are wiped out. If there is no exact date, the Primarch will hold a celebration and we can present it together."
Fikris said.
"That's good. I'll have people get ready first," said Reddy.
Fikris nodded and said, "Go ahead. If you have any questions, come to me and I will do my best to help you solve them."
"Understood, Master Fikelis."
After Reddy finished speaking, he turned and left.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..
Time passes.
Two weeks after the Battle of Ramillies System.
Imperial ships gathered in the cold darkness outside the Gorod system.
They will launch a fatal blow against the orc warlord - Arsonist.
At the gathering point, a large number of ships are traveling through the warp at every moment.
They centered around Macragge's Glory, waiting for the final combat order.
The Primaris Space Marines of each chapter were also fully prepared.
The orcs' peripheral forces have been cleared out.
Now, only the last main star of the orcs remains.
In the pre-war meeting.
Corvu stood up from his seat and looked towards the Primarch on the main seat.
"Sir, how do you plan to deal with the orcs' battle moon? If a surprise attack is required, the Nova Regiment is willing to be your vanguard."
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