Emperor's Bane

Chapter 913 The Story of the Losers (Part 1)

Ivar only became an Astartes warrior in the final days of the unification war.

For him, this was a remarkable achievement.

From the moment he was born, Ivar was never expected to become a warrior.

If his parents hadn't had him late in life, a newborn as frail as Ivar would have been abandoned in the wild to be eaten by wild beasts in the most primitive and untamed region of Holy Terra. In the era of conflict where resources were extremely scarce, abandoning infants had long been considered a legitimate and ancient tradition.

However, after Ivar's parents had already accepted that they would never have children in their lives, his birth undoubtedly brought great comfort, allowing him, who was born weak and sickly, to survive: until in a perfectly ordinary tribal conflict, his parents died at the hands of the enemy tribe.

Ivar was just six years old that year: illness and frailty still plagued his body.

Since then, his already difficult life has spiraled into a living hell: although the tribe left him a relatively stable place to live, and although his parents’ relatives and friends were still willing to help him, many things could not be satisfied with material guarantees.

The loneliness of being alone in the darkness, the painful memories of seeing his parents' belongings, and the repeated reminders of his identity amidst the struggles among his peers: his miserable life and frail physique pushed him to another extreme, which was to go against the honor and cowardice of the tribe's dedication, and instead draw wisdom and cunning from the shadows.

By being smarter, more cunning, and even more insane than his peers, Ivar successfully grew up.

He lived to see the days when the Emperor's armies began sweeping through the most remote corners of Terra: when the mighty Thunder Warriors and Astartes marched across distant lands, and when the arrogant elders and warriors of the tribes bowed down to these godlike warriors, that long-dormant dream deep within his heart was awakened once more.

Ivar wants to become a warrior.

A warrior as great as them.

Before the Emperor's army had left, Ivar quietly followed in their footsteps, determined to use his intelligence to seize another future: he soon noticed that some Astartes warriors had left the main force and come to a long-forgotten tomb, seemingly very interested in what was buried in the tomb.

Just as Astartes, clad in silver armor, was scratching his head over the tomb's tight security, Ivar seized the opportunity and stood before them: relying on his extensive reading and continuous exploration of nearby ancient sites, he successfully helped these angelic warriors unravel the mysteries and find the path to the deeper parts of the tomb.

Then, just as he had predicted.

These seemingly easy-going Astartes indeed possessed noble ideals that were incomprehensible to ordinary people. They were very willing to thank Ivar kindly and politely ask him if he needed any reward. Ivar did not answer; he simply exchanged a brief glance with the leading warrior.

Then, the man smiled.

When the Astartes returned laden with their spoils, they had an extra thin child in their wagon.

For the next decade, Ivar lived in the Second Legion's recruit training camp, where he gradually became the oldest of all the candidates: his frail body was a great burden, but his cunning and intelligence impressed the Astartes, which kept him competitive.

Especially after his extraordinary psychic talent was discovered by chance.

The veterans who brought him back, led by a company commander named Ragnar, trained the boy with great interest until he finally met the Astartes selection criteria: unsurprisingly, Ivar became the top candidate in that year's selection.

He wasn't the strongest one, but no one doubted his achievements.

At this time, only a few months had passed since the Lord of Holy Terra delivered his famous speech, officially announcing the start of the Great Crusade to the entire human homeworld: the Legion had already received the order to set off.

Ivar was unfortunate; he was one of the very few Terra veterans who had nothing to boast about.

But he was also lucky: he successfully caught the sails of the Great Expedition, changing his destiny.

------

During the Great Expedition, Ivar was naturally assigned to Ragnar's Fifth Fleet. At this time, the split of the Second Legion was already taking shape, but they were still able to maintain unity, although they did not leave any noteworthy achievements during this period.

Ivar's understanding of this period is vague.

At the start of the Great Crusade, he had not yet fully completed his training program, and his mastery of psychic power was, to put it mildly, pathetic. Under the strict demands of veterans like Ragnar, Ivar's generation of new recruits did not begin their first battle until the seventeenth year after the Great Crusade, and there were never any particularly intense battles.

Even Ivar could see clearly that if the Second Legion continued to develop in this direction, not to mention whether they would be able to take the lead on the main battlefield, it would be a question whether the legion could even remain intact.

But unfortunately, his prediction came true.

Over the next decade or so, what impressed Ivar most was the constant division within the legion. After a significant number of those who disagreed left en masse and became the legendary lost fleet of the legion, the situation not only did not improve, but began to worsen.

Therefore, when Acting Legion Commander Marshall finally decided to split the Legion into six fleets, even a new recruit like Ivar was not surprised.

For him, his expedition has only just begun.

……

The Fifth Fleet, led by Captain Ragnar, was not a very large force at the beginning.

In fact, there were only a thousand of them.

Whether it was their fierce style, wild traditions, or chilling rumors, all of these greatly hindered the Fifth Fleet from recruiting new soldiers and finding allies, but Ragnar and others never tried to change it: according to them, no one except the Emperor and the legendary Gene Primarch could distort the will and freedom of the Second Legion.

Horus won't work either.

Because of their small numbers, they didn't take much from the legion's armaments. Their only three cruisers carried all the heavy weapons and valuable assets, and together with a dozen or so destroyers and frigates, they formed the entire Fifth Fleet: although their strength seemed very weak, they were agile and convenient, and could easily change course.

For the next period of time, they swam like sharks in the frenzied ocean of the Great Expedition, searching for temporary allies and unlucky prey.

They formed temporary alliances with newly discovered worlds of forging, knighthood, and even ordinary imperial worlds, each with their own ulterior motives, to find a place for their next meal or their next resting place.

They raid fleets disloyal to the Empire, plunder their supplies, and kidnap their children. If it's an alien or pirate fleet, even better: you don't even need to take the time to check if they're flying the double-headed eagle flag before you start the carnage.

More often than not, however, they would be drawn into major battles initiated by other expeditionary fleets, either voluntarily or involuntarily. As powerful but unstable allies, they would wreak havoc on the enemy's flanks for a hefty reward or a promise of "freedom of acquisition." Of all the generals and comrades who had ever cooperated with them, half would denounce their laxity and brutality, while the other half would boast of their strength as warriors.

But everyone admits that they are more like a group of space pirates clad in Astartes armor than warriors filled with glory under the double-headed eagle.

However, they always maintained their loyalty, a loyalty that even Terra could not deny: therefore, they occasionally received help from Terra or the Mother Group.

The most important of these is the gene seed.

Although over the long term, whether it was the seeds aided by the mother group or those they accumulated themselves, they only had a few hundred seeds in total, the genetic disease that had begun to sweep through the entire Second Legion did not immediately spread to the seeds of the Fifth Fleet. With just a few hundred seeds, they still managed to create five hundred new recruits.

The total strength reached 1,500 men.

After several more years of combat and training, and after initially ensuring the combat effectiveness of these new recruits, Company Commander Ragnar immediately issued an order: he decided to turn the Fifth Fleet's advance direction towards the Ghoul Cluster in the northeastern part of the galaxy, a region that had never been truly explored before and was full of mysterious and unknown treasures.

Most importantly, the Lost Fleet, which had chosen to leave alone long before the Legion split, sent its last signal not far from the Ghoul Stars. Ragnar believed that the Lost Fleet could not have been completely wiped out; they might just be waiting for allies, or at least leaving clues at the places where they had stayed for their brothers-in-arms to arrive later.

After a swift show of hands, Ragnar's proposal was approved.

The Fifth Fleet began its journey toward the Ghoul Cluster.

This decision will change their fate.

------

Surprisingly, the journey to the infamous Ghoul Stars went surprisingly smoothly. Ivar even thought for a moment that the so-called Ghoul Stars were just something made up by those idiots.

They plundered and looted their way along, rapidly advancing towards the northeastern part of the galaxy. Just as they were about to reach the Ghoul Cluster, they suddenly turned a corner: Ragnar had discovered that the source of a lost fleet's signal was not inside the Ghoul Cluster, but in a star sector extremely close to it.

"really weird."

Ivar remembers Ragnar's confusion at the time.

"It felt like these people had just fled from the ghoul constellation."

At the time, they did not suspect anything.

Until they followed the signal and found it.

But the situation was worse than they had imagined.

------

Something's not right...something's very wrong.

As soon as he stepped out of the Stormbird's hatch, Ivar frowned and gave his conclusion.

It wasn't just him: among the more than 800 Astartes warriors who landed with Captain Ragnar, the vast majority quickly noticed something amiss.

The problem is far too obvious.

The nameless world they landed on was a wasteland devoid of any signs of life, with only endless white sand dunes as far as the eye could see. Therefore, the completely corroded corpses of Astartes were very conspicuous: they immediately saw their long-dead brothers in battle, and then frowned because of the bizarre state of their deaths.

"The numbers don't match at all."

Ragnar tapped it slightly.

“The fleet that split off from the legion back then had at least several thousand men, but all we see now are dozens of skeletons.” “They were more like a small squad.”

"But the signals they emitted were indeed of the highest level, theoretically belonging only to the fleet commander."

Ivar stroked his chin.

"Could it be... that these are the only people left?"

"impossible."

Ragnar shook his head firmly.

“There are no signs of battle here, and we haven’t found any wreckage from the crashed spaceship. These brothers don’t seem to have fled to this world; they seem to have been transported here by some unknown force. Search carefully; perhaps we can find some clues.”

So the Fifth Fleet members dispersed, collecting the remains of their fallen comrades while searching for suspicious clues in the vast desert.

They quickly discovered the problem.

"Look, these suits of armor."

Ivar pointed to two different corpses.

"Their armor styles are the same, but the degree of aging is vastly different: the armor on the left looks like it has only been worn for a dozen years, which is normal considering the time, but the armor on the right has already shown severe decay and calcification, which would be impossible without the passage of thousands of years."

"Several thousand years."

Ragnar shook his head in disbelief.

"What on earth happened to them?"

"..."

Then, he looked at Ivar.

"What do you think?"

I have a guess.

Ivar licked his teeth somewhat uneasily.

"According to the reports from the first survivors who explored the Ghoul Cluster, there are a large number of unstable spacetime turbulence phenomena in the Ghoul Cluster. In other words, the Lost Fleet may have encountered spacetime turbulence, and these people were thrown here by spacetime turbulence: this also explains why their armor is in different states."

"What about their highly authorized distress calls?"

"I'm not so sure about that: maybe it's a mission?"

"A mission? What mission..."

"Company commander!"

Suddenly, excited shouts came from afar.

"Come and take a look at this!"

Upon hearing this, Ragnar quickly ran over, with Ivar following closely behind. They soon arrived at a cave that clearly showed signs of human carving. By comparing the marks on the walls, it was clear that the cave was carved out by the very brothers who had stayed in the cave until their dying moments.

"They dug a cave before they died."

Ivar muttered to himself.

"What do they want to...protect?"

"Maybe this is it, brother."

Someone responded to him from ahead.

As the first few combat comrades dug through a makeshift shelter made of piled-up rocks, they saw more than a dozen boxes of varying sizes exposed before their eyes. Their textures and materials spoke of their extraordinary nature, and the faint aura they exuded was astonishing. The patterns and words on them were even more familiar.

"That's the Spirit Clan's script."

Ivar recognized him immediately.

"Judging from the style, it should be the Ark Eldar."

"The Eldar of the Ark?"

Ragnar stepped forward.

"If this is what they're willing to risk their lives for..."

"boom--"

Before the words were finished, a deafening explosion shook the entire cave and everyone present.

The sound came from outside.

To be more specific: it comes from the heavens.

Without any hesitation, all the Astartes present quickly drew their weapons and rushed to the outside of the cave at top speed. When they arrived, the Astartes that had been scattered all over the ground were already in full battle array, occupying various corners that were advantageous for defense. Their eyes were all fixed on the sky that brought the ominous light.

"The Emperor is above..."

With just one glance, Ragnar couldn't help but let out a painful groan.

Ivar, however, stared wide-eyed.

The Fifth Army's fleet was like a clumsy buffalo struggling along near-Earth orbit, constantly adjusting its position and cannons, futilely trying to deal with the enemy that seemed to be coming from nowhere.

Beside them, several squadrons of Eldar warships swayed in graceful yet deadly arcs: they were among the most advanced ships in the universe, with several Shadow-class and Eclipse-class cruisers forming the backbone of their force, while various frigates and destroyers relentlessly and precisely ravaged their counterparts within the Imperium.

But most deadly of all, the distant sunlight obscured a truly terrifying thing: the battleship known as the Voidhunter was the most terrifying and powerful weapon the Eldar pirate fleet could muster, and before this, everyone thought it was just a legend.

When it actually appeared, the entire battle had lost all suspense.

In terms of quantity, quality, the elite status of the sailors, and the grasp of the opportunity, the combined fleet of the Ark Eldar and Eldar pirates far surpassed the Imperial fleet, which had no expectations of the battle. Not to mention these alien warships that arrived at the battlefield by unknown means, which firmly occupied the most advantageous firing positions.

Less than a minute after arriving at the battlefield, Ivar saw that at least two Imperial frigates were on fire.

This not only meant the loss of warships, but also that the more than one hundred Astartes aboard those two ships had almost no chance of survival. At this point, such a loss was an unacceptable defeat for the entire Fifth Fleet.

But soon, Ivar lost interest in all of that.

Because at the edge of his field of vision, one after another, light blue lights were shimmering on the pale white sand dunes.

They stretch out in endless waves, until they gather from tiny droplets into a vast ocean large enough for an entire army to march out of.

Under the silent gaze of the Astartes, the iconic towering helmets of the Eldar and the ornate armor worn only by the most elite warriors appeared one after another before Ragnar and Ivar. If one were to take a closer look, one would find that the number of these Eldar was almost equal to that of the Astartes.

Even more.

But what was most unsettling was that these Eldar warriors were clearly not a disorganized mob: they huddled around the two leaders with utmost devotion.

These two Eldar leaders were even taller than ordinary Astartes. They were taciturn, their armor covered in battle scars and honors. When their gazes swept over the hundreds of Astartes warriors present, including Ragnar, Ivar, and all the Terran veterans, with either contempt or sullenness, everyone involuntarily took a deep breath.

That was the pressure from power.

These two Spirit Race members are no ordinary people.

"damn it……"

Since they met, Ivar had never heard Ragnar's tone so desperate.

He was almost groaning in pain.

……

"Two Phoenix Lords!"

(End of this chapter)