Emperor's Bane

Chapter 1010 There has never been such a wonderful start
Hatred.

Tempting hatred.

Sweet hatred!
This must be a blessing from fate, fueling the burning hatred within my heart.

Let me never forget all of that.

I've endured until today.

I no longer need to join those swine in insincerely shouting "Long live the Emperor!"

I no longer need to pretend to be brothers with those damn bastards.

I no longer need to humbly kiss the boots of those Highlords and Primarchs.

From this day forward, I am not a slave to any of them!
Terra!

Dorn!

Emperor!

Let them all go to hell!
The fate of the entire galaxy is being changed.

Power is in my hands!

I stand at the most crucial point, at the juncture where I can arbitrate all parties involved.

It's time. It's time to tear away all the pretense.

It's time to exact revenge on the emperor who burned down my homeland!
It's time to settle accounts with those bastards who left us to die in this toxic world!

It's time to pay for the blood debt owed to our comrades who died unjustly in the 52,000-man Gino Regiment!

Ha ha……

That's right, that's exactly it: an eye for an eye!
Open that damn portal.

They released the Turks into Golden Horn Bay.

Let those Shadowmoon Wolves in!
Let this so-called Solar Barrier become the graveyard of the Imperial Fist and the Terrans!

------

In the human empire after the Great Crusade, the Old Centurion was a name with a magical quality.

Ancient, glorious, and widely respected, whether they are noble Astartes warriors or any elite force fighting in the name of the emperor, they all pay tribute to these timeless legends on the battlefield.

This is also a tribute to that legendary story that only exists in paintings and oral traditions.

Those who experienced the madness of the unification war and the bloodshed of the Great Expedition, and who stood as mortals on the land of Ulanno, were regarded as the most respectable soldiers in the entire galaxy. They were living history of the unification war and the Great Expedition, and also the most valuable asset that any army about to go to the battlefield could obtain.

Even for the Imperial Fist, an Astartes Legion that carries unparalleled glory, acquiring a group of veteran centurions who had participated in the unification wars is a significant event worthy of the Primarch's personal involvement.

It is only natural to place these battle-hardened veterans in the most important positions.

At least, that's what Dorn did.

Realizing that war between Holy Terra and the Wolf Gods was inevitable, Rogdoryn, as Terra's Royal Guard, had the most important duty, besides strengthening the defenses of the solar system and its surrounding space by all means, to plunder military power as much as possible from the territories under the Highlords in preparation for that endless war of attrition.

It was at this time that he discovered a treasure trove among the idle troops under Terra's command.

The 52,000-unit Ginobilitate.

The name of this unit sounds strange, but their strength and glory are undeniable. If one were to summarize their glorious history, beginning with the War of Unification, one sentence would suffice: This unit inspired the creation of the Thunder Warriors.

That's right, it's that Thunder Warriors team.

Sadly, this highly decorated unit fell in the final years of the Great Expedition, almost completely wiped out in a silent, poisonous world. The Alpha Legion, which fought alongside them, sealed all files on the grounds of classified information, forbidding anyone from exploring the remnants of this unit.

But none of that matters to Dorne.

Importantly, when the Lord of the Imperial Fist spared no effort to plunder Terra's military potential for this war, he inadvertently discovered that the old centurion, marked as annihilated, still had remnants: when the main force of the legion was wiped out, a well-trained officer corps was on a visit to other fleets and was not present.

Thus, this group, which had been idle on Terra for a long time, was brought before Dorn again. The Primarch, who was desperately short of manpower, carefully examined their morale and military capabilities, and pondered their mentality. After confirming that these mortals were indeed battle-hardened veterans, he sent them all to Minerva.

And they proved the original's vision.

In just over a decade, these veteran centurions, who banded together for mutual support, rose through the ranks of Minerva's military system based on their abilities and seniority. When the Wolf God officially raised the banner of rebellion on Konya, Dorne discovered, during his final inspection of the Minerva fortress before the war, that these men had already reached remarkable positions.

Second-in-command of Vox Keep: One of the three keys to the entire Sunwall.

The Primarch also felt that this appointment was a bit too presumptuous.

But after careful consideration, he could not find a more suitable candidate. Moreover, if even veterans who had served the Emperor since the beginning of the unification wars were not trustworthy, who else could he trust? Besides, these people had indeed made outstanding contributions to Minerva.

If they truly harbored malicious intentions, they wouldn't have pointed out the various problems with Vox Fortress.

Having considered this, the Terra Guard finally suppressed the last bit of doubt in their hearts.

On the list of those promoted from the old Hundreds, the Primarch finally signed his own name.

Then he picked up the seal.

"In the name of Terra: Approved."

------

"Are you all ready?"

The rumble of artillery fire rose from the horizon, and could be faintly heard even from beneath the heaviest permanent fortifications.

The heavy footsteps of the Imperial Fist echoed for a long time in the corridor not far away. They were anxious and hurried, and without time to give any more instructions, they rushed to the front line of the war.

Once you step out of the underground bunker and look up at the vast emptiness above the clouds, anyone who isn't blind will be awestruck by what they see: tens of thousands of steel behemoths are fighting each other to the death, and the flames from the collision of heaven and earth are more dazzling than the opera on Holy Terra.

All of this, in their silent words, tells a chilling truth.

Since the first Shadowmoon Wolf's iron boots set foot on the land called Minerva, Horus's army has never launched such a large-scale offensive.

More than 300,000 Shadowmoon Wolves, tens of millions of mortal auxiliary troops, and tens of thousands of warships were mobilized almost simultaneously. From the highest point in the sky to the lowest dust on the entire Minerva, Horus's followers crashed into the Rogdorath defenses like waves, taut the bowstring of the Imperial Fist to its limit.

On the surface, the Imperial Warmaster seemed to have no interest in fighting a war of attrition on this land. He longed for a decisive victory, to instantly shatter the myth of the Seventh Legion's ironclad defenses with a single, decisive attack.

Everyone believes that.

Whether it was the Shadow Moon Wolves launching the charge, the naval officers directing the warships to fire, or the mortal auxiliary soldiers falling before the barbed wire and permanent fortifications, everyone believed in the promise of the Wolf God: but only a very few knew the truth.

One of the lucky ones was gathering all his trusted subordinates before him for a final speech before the operation began.

His voice trembled.

"Bros!"

He looked around at everyone present; they were all old brothers from the Gino 52 Thousand Legion, the last people in the entire galaxy who could still be trusted.

"Did you hear the noise outside?"

"Those cannon shots, those battle cries, those Imperial fists hastily leaving their posts."

"That's the War General responding to our alliance; he's paving the way for our next move."

“Countless people will die on the battlefield, hundreds and thousands of warships will fall into the void, and countless lands and glories will be lost: all for our next move.”

The officer clenched his fist, watching with satisfaction as anger burned in every pair of eyes before him.

"It's time to avenge our brothers who died unjustly."

"They were thrown into the toxic world to die by those Hydras, by that damned Alpharis."

"Without any reason!"

"The Emperor will not stand up for us, and the Highlords and the Seals will turn a deaf ear. They would never offend a Primarch for our sake. In that case, let's show them the power of a nobody."

He paused briefly, the murky, cold air in the fortress making him feel a little better.

His nose twitched, enjoying the sensation of blood congealing and the corpse gradually stinking.

"We'll get started immediately."

He looked around at everyone one last time.

"Remember your respective duties, everyone."

"As the deputy commander of the fortress, I grant you the authority to travel freely throughout the capital."

"Take advantage of the current chaos and head to the various control rooms and key areas to carry out your respective tasks."

"Shut down the power supply system for the artillery positions."

"Sever communication between various strongholds and fortresses on the front line."

"Disrupt the communication platform: Ensure it cannot be repaired for at least half an hour."

"Having breached the air defense network, the Shadowmoon Wolves' bomber squadron will arrive on time."

"Move the reserve teams as far away as possible."

"Isolate all the rooms inside the fortress that are guarded by the Imperial Fist."

"Close the gates tightly, release the stored poison gas, and place the allies who have infiltrated into key intersections."

"I don't care what methods you use."

"Complete your mission."

"Let's turn this place into a real pile of scrap metal!"

"..."

The silent ones in the room nodded without any wavering or hesitation: without exception, they were all veterans who had participated in the war of unification, who had witnessed firsthand how the Emperor burned their homeland and conscripted them into the most brutal war in the entire galaxy, and how, just as this war was about to end, the Emperor's bloodline casually abandoned their legions.

A once-mighty team of 100 men was mercilessly slaughtered by Alpha.

No reason, no cause: as Hydra slaughtered these loyal followers who had fought alongside them for decades, they cried out, "For the Emperor!"

For more than a decade, without exception, the survivors have been working tirelessly for the cause we are doing today.

Even within the Solar Barrier, there exists a force that has gradually grown stronger.

This is inevitable.

Otherwise, the dozen or so officers in this room alone could not possibly bring the entire Vox Fortress to a standstill. The strange thing about this war between Terra and the Warmaster is that, although nominally the Wolf God was the one who started the rebellion, in reality, the Holy Terra was the one who lost the hearts and minds of the people.

Even within the garrison of the Sunwall, personally overseen by Dorne, these rebels could easily find more subordinates: there were always soldiers whose homelands had been ravaged by the tithes of the high lords, and there were always some unfortunate individuals who, after witnessing how the army of the human empire destroyed their homes, were forcibly drawn into the Emperor's army.

For these people, they don't care about Horus's slogans or identity: they only want to see the Holy Terra and the High Chieftain's bloodline.

And officers were naturally among them.

After witnessing his last loyal subordinate depart with his mission, the officer was left with only two ever-present attendants. He turned around, ready to take on his own task.

The mission was just a short distance ahead of him.

That was the most important and largest teleportation array in the entire Vox Fortress.

It is so highly valued that at least one Imperial Fist must be stationed there at all times.

But now: it's gone.

"Hey……"

As he pulled the dagger from the already dead corpse of the Imperial Fist, the officer couldn't help but glance at his old acquaintance of over a decade with pity: to be honest, he hadn't had a bad impression of this Son of Dorne. If it weren't for the Imperial Fist's notorious stubbornness, he might have even tried to persuade him to join his ranks.

Instead of taking direct action, he led a dozen or so well-prepared subordinates to riddle the man with bullets.

But the officer quickly cleared these unnecessary thoughts from his mind. He knew time was of the essence: the Imperial Fists would soon discover the anomaly at Vox Keep, and the Shadowmoon Wolves were already itching for action. He had to get the Warmaster's soldiers behind the Sons of Dorne as quickly as possible.

Thinking of this, the officer couldn't wait to come to the teleportation array. His two attendants had already collected the fingerprints and genetic markers of the Imperial Fist and easily activated this ancient relic.

Accompanied by a blinding blue light, after only a dozen breaths, a group of tall, ferocious, and silent black figures stood amidst the shimmering teleportation array. They were killing machines capable of making even the greatest warriors kneel, and the most trusted iron hammers of Horus, the god of the wolf shepherd.

Gastalin.

Their reputation is mixed, encompassing both noble and sinister aspects, but no one can deny that the infamous Gastalin Terminator Corps has always been one of the most formidable opponents on the battlefield, yet at the same time, they are also the most trustworthy and reliable allies.

The sharp-eyed officer immediately noticed that standing at the very front of these Gastalins was a figure renowned throughout the galaxy.

He was taller and broader than the others, wearing a weathered Iron Cavalry-style Terminator armor, without a helmet. His terrifying square face featured a tall braid and a cold gaze that no one dared to meet.

Ezekiel Abaddon.

The head of the Gastalin, the right claw of Horus.

His gaze was still somewhat dazed, but it quickly returned to sharpness as the light faded. He then subconsciously looked around at his surroundings before nodding in satisfaction.

The officer stepped forward and bowed in salute.

"Abbotton House..."

But before he could bend down, he felt a tremendous force grab his shoulders and lift him up.

"No need to be polite."

Abaddon managed to force a smile.

"You have fulfilled the promise you made to the War Commander."

"It is I who should thank you, Your Excellency."

"To coordinate with your actions, Lord Horus has mobilized all his military forces on Minerva, and millions will die in the next hour: and your actions will ensure that their sacrifices are not in vain."

"Alright, although I would like to thank you more, this is an urgent matter."

Tell me, what is the current situation at Vox Fortress?

"We have done everything we could."

The officer nodded firmly.

"Most of the soldiers have been divided up or urgently redeployed to the front lines where there is full-scale fighting, and Fort Works is at its least defended level ever."

"As for the Imperial Fist, there are currently fewer than seventy Imperial Fist members still stationed inside the fortress, but there are several hundred Imperial Fist members not far from here. Once a firefight breaks out, they could return at any time."

"How long is 'anytime'?"

"Within fifteen minutes: But we can close the inner and outer gates of Vox Keep under the pretext of a state of emergency, which would delay them for at least another half hour."

"enough."

Abaddon nodded in satisfaction.

He had no doubt about that number. Although the Twisted One had told him that at least 100,000 Imperial Fists were stationed within the Sunwall.

This number is indeed frightening.

But upon closer inspection, the last great fleet personally led by Rogdorn has not yet arrived, so there are at most 70,000 to 80,000 Imperial Fists in the current stronghold.

The surface area of ​​Minerva in the civilized world is equal to that of Holy Terra, and considering that the Solar Barrier occupies one-tenth of its surface area: in such a vast area, a mere 70,000 to 80,000 Imperial Fists are truly a drop in the ocean.

Even in a key location like Vox Fortress, with the entire front line heavily damaged, it's already considered very cautious to leave behind only a few dozen or a hundred garrison soldiers.

“I brought almost all of Gastalin with me, along with hundreds of heavily armed Shadowmoon Wolf warriors.”

"This fortress will be ours within half an hour."

After saying this, Abaddon turned his head and looked at the warriors who had already stepped out of the teleportation array.

"Do you all remember what the Primarch told you?"

The Shadowmoon Wolves nodded.

"very good."

Abaddon pointed to the officer in front of him.

"So, have you memorized the topographical map of Vox Fortress that our allies gave you?"

Nod again.

Abaddon smiled with satisfaction.

"In that case: let's set off."

"Let's teach those Imperial Fists a lesson."

All the Shadowmoon Wolves clenched their fists, their low growls echoing in the room for a long time.

"For the Wolf God!!!"

------

Assault.

kill.

Show no mercy.

The fiercest blades and explosive bombs came at the Imperial Fists from the direction they were least prepared for.

Bombs and lasers roared in the dark corners, piercing faces and skulls until the Terran bodies collapsed with a thud.

The flashes of the twin-barreled bomb gun and laser cannon illuminated the fortress corridors, now blurred by the war. It could mercilessly tear apart the ranks of the auxiliary troops, crush the yellow terracotta armor of the Imperial Fists, and blast Astartes warriors and mortals into clusters of blood flowers, then effortlessly devour their bodies, lives, and souls.

Fully armed Gastalin troops charged out from the deepest part of the fortress in droves. The intricate layout of Vox Fortress was already imprinted in their minds. It could be said that even the Imperial Fist and the mortal guards who stayed here did not know this fortress beneath their feet as well as they did.

Moreover, these guardians, who are completely unaware of the betrayal by those around them, are now embroiled in even more troublesome problems. For example, Vox Fortress has suddenly lost contact with the various outposts on the front lines, and the connections between the corridors have been mysteriously switched. Countless elite soldiers and squads are isolated in cramped spaces, struggling to survive in the darkness and the thinning air.

The already severely depleted manpower was further weakened by the fortress's deliberate targeting of its own defenders.

It was in this chaos that the Gastalins silently appeared behind the Fist of the Empire and pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

Blood splattered on the walls and floor, defiling the expressionless statue of Dorn.

As the four gates were abruptly closed, the more than sixty Imperial Fist soldiers trapped inside the fortress were located and shot dead in just over ten minutes. Most of them were unaware of the enemy's presence, but some more perceptive warriors sensed the threat in the air and drew their sidearms before dying in battle.

At least four Gastalin warriors were killed in this close combat, their stubborn opponents hiding around the corner and taking down the first enemy to emerge.

Two Dornish champions were even more outstanding, killing three and six people respectively: the latter even required Abaddon to deal with personally. He was an old soldier who had been praised by the Emperor and many Primarchs, and was only beheaded by Abaddon when he rushed over and shot him through the body by several Gastalin snipers.

Even so, his blade still left a penetrating wound on the company commander's Terminator armor.

With the fall of this Legion champion, the entire Vox Keep, one of the three cores of Rog'dorne deployed on Minerva, was now completely in the hands of Horus and his Shadowmoon Wolves, despite the silent yet tenacious resistance of the mortals there.

They held their ground at every vantage point, in every room, and in every tactically valuable corridor, fighting the Shadowmoon Wolves for every corner and doorway until the last valiant warrior was pierced through the skull: at this point, Abaddondo had paid off six more death points.

Thus, twenty-one minutes after the first Gastalin stepped out of the teleportation array, Horus's offspring completely took control of the main part of Vox Fortress.

Even now, in the most remote and desolate corners of Vox Fortress, gunshots still echoed.

But no one could stop the sons of Horus from claiming their victory.

------

The operation was a success!
It's unbelievable.

They actually... succeeded?

Even as the first banner of the Shadowmoon Wolf was raised high above Walkersburg, carrying the scent of gunpowder, blood, and death into the sky obscured by the fleet, Abaddon still felt a sense of unreal absurdity.

Frankly speaking, he wasn't entirely optimistic about the plan at first.

Everyone knows how much effort Rogdorn has put into Minerva, and Vox Fortress is one of the three most beautiful crowns in the Primarch's life. But who could have imagined that such a military stronghold would fall into the hands of a group of traitors who hate Holy Terra to the core, and be captured by a mere few hundred elite Shadowmoon Wolves?

But if you think about it carefully...

Since the start of the war, the most effective weapon of Warmaster Horus has not been his legions or his fleet: but rather these seemingly insignificant traitors.

No matter where the Warlord's forces advance, he can always find people who harbor a deep-seated hatred for Holy Terra.

Perhaps this is what is meant by the will of the people?
Ignoring Gastalin's cheers for the victory beside him, Abaddon's gaze was fixed on the huge electronic screen in front of him: from here, he could monitor all the fortified strongholds in front of Vox Fortress, as well as the Terran garrison stationed inside.

They are orchestrating an even greater victory for him.

With the fall of Vox Fortress, not to mention the furious Imperial Fist forces rushing to its aid, the fortresses that were stationed there are now doomed.

Their anti-aircraft firepower was shut down, their automatic turrets stopped due to power loss, and their communication and coordination were now in complete disarray. Not only could shells and supplies not be delivered, but many fortresses were even directly attacked from behind and destroyed by their own firepower in a daze.

As the anti-aircraft firepower fell silent, the slow-moving bomber groups that could penetrate the void shields arrived as expected directly above these fortresses. Further away, the artillery arrays of the Shadowmoon Wolves roared: under the shadow of these earth-shattering war gods, the Sons of Horus and the Warmaster Legion advanced like a nightmare.

Without a doubt, even for the solar barrier on the entire planet Minerva, today is not the day of destruction.

But it was the first wall that Dorn used to defend against the Warmaster.

Now, it has been trampled by the Shadowmoon Wolves.

And this is indeed a victory worth celebrating.

A surge of pride welled up in Abaddon's heart.

However, pride does not last long.

It only continued until his deputy, Kabo, sent him a message.

"What's wrong, Kaibo?"

"Huh? You mean..."

"Is there still one room that hasn't been breached?"

"A group of Imperial Fists who are determined to fight to the death seem to be protecting something?"

"..."

"Wait there: I'll go check it out right now."

------

"grown ups!"

Fafnir-Lan pushed open the door.

"This is an emergency notification from Minerva!"

"..."

A rough, slightly tired hand took the intelligence from the Fist of the Empire.

He examined it closely.

Then, it trembled slightly.

But soon, he regained his resolve.

“Lan En”.

The sound was as stubborn as stone.

"I am here, sir."

"How is the ship?"

"We have already used Mandeville Point, but two-thirds of the fleet is still in the warp."

"The Shadowmoon Wolf fleet is currently anchored above Minerva, but they have already reacted to us."

"However, according to the staff's analysis, while a conflict is possible, the likelihood of a large-scale naval battle is not high."

"..."

"Pass on my orders."

"Summon Haskar, the Templars, and all Astartes on the Everlasting Expedition who are ready for immediate combat."

"Follow me, let's go to war."

"Understood, sir!"

------

"how is the situation?"

When Abaddon arrived at the scene, he was greeted by Keiber and twelve Gastalins.

However, the sharp-eyed company commander noticed that right in front of these brothers' makeshift fortifications, in a wide, long, and completely exposed corridor, lay the already cold body of Gastalin.

"This was originally an accident."

Kaibo explained.

"Our men discovered this room, which wasn't marked on the map at all, while clearing out the remaining soldiers."

“Even our mortal allies who activated the teleportation array for us have never heard of this place.”

"Clearly, this is the secret of the Imperial Fist."

"We wanted to go in and find out what was going on, and then we discovered that there were at least six Imperial Fist soldiers stationed here."

Kaibo wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“They have ample firepower, and any advance or shouting will be met with the most ferocious counterattack. I even suspect that they have phosphate weapons, or even some more dangerous extermination weapons.”

"In addition, the protective measures around this hidden room are far beyond what is required: we have identified at least six miniature automatic fire platforms, and their coordination has completely suppressed us beyond our firing range."

"Ah."

Abaddon nodded.

"It seems there is indeed a secret inside."

He pondered for a moment and then issued the order.

"I need another twenty men, and they need to carry superior long-range firepower to suppress the enemy."

"Then, gather the best Terminators, have them carry shields, and forcefully break through the formation."

"I will lead the team myself."

Abaddon's requests were all met within a mere ten minutes.

However, just as he was preparing to lead a dozen fully armed Terminators, under the cover of fire from his comrades-in-arms, to charge toward the door at the end of the corridor, that door, which seemed to never yield to the Sons of Horus, suddenly opened by itself.

"?"

The Shadowmoon Wolves' movements came to a halt.

They couldn't understand what these stubborn, rock-solid imperial fists were up to.

But soon, they learned the truth.

This time, they were not met with the dark muzzle of the Imperial Fist's gun.

Instead, it was a figure.

A tall, fully armed figure, clad in imposing golden armor, standing like a demigod.

He was furious, his killing intent palpable.

He said nothing, did nothing, but simply raised his chainsaw sword and stood there, as stubborn as the most unyielding rock, arrogantly gazing at everyone present.

And in front of his gaze.

Even the most insane. The most twisted Gastalin.

He also humbly lowered his head.

At the same time, he gasped in disbelief.

Deep down, these unfortunate souls subconsciously began to lament their impending death.

Abaddon was among them.

"By the Primarch..."

Despite maintaining an indomitable charging posture.

But when he spoke, Abaddon heard the most fearful tremor he had ever heard.

And an incredulous voice, like a murmur.

……

"It's him!"

"It's...Roggdon!"

(End of this chapter)