Emperor's Bane

Chapter 914 The Story of the Losers (Part 2)

Ivar had never seen such a massive and terrifying Eldar army.

That's right, by Eldar standards, they are now facing an entire legion.

Although the number of aliens emerging from the Web Nexus, built from the untraceable bones, was only a few hundred, even for the Eldar, whose civilization had completely collapsed and whose population was declining like the setting sun, this was not a large number. The real problem was the composition of this group.

Any warrior who has ever fought against the Eldar forces of the Ark would be amazed at their bad luck with just a glance.

The same applies to Ivar.

As is well known, the Eldar forces of the Ark have never been a standardized, massive legion. Since the Great Fall that destroyed the Eldar Empire, the once dominant civilization in the galaxy has collapsed. Now, they are nothing more than a dying reflection of the past: whether in terms of technology, territory, or most importantly, population, they are less than one ten-billionth of their former glory.

Of these, population is particularly deadly.

The so-called Ark Eldar were those who escaped on planet-sized ark ships on the eve of the great fall of the Eldar Empire. Compared to the Dark Eldar who were able to hide in ancient capitals, or the Savage Eldar who had long been self-sufficient, the Ark Eldar appeared particularly hasty and awkward.

In terms of technology and population, they are inferior to the Comoros, who inherited the true foundation of the Eldar Empire, and they do not have a stable base like the Savage Eldar. Although each surviving Ark world has undergone tremendous development in the thousands of years since the Great Fall, their sparse population is still insufficient to maintain a standing army.

Therefore, the composition of almost every Eldar army in the Ark is highly similar, consisting mainly of a small number of tribe warriors specializing in combat, and when necessary, a large number of militia called Guardians are conscripted: these are just civilians who are artisans, architects and other professions, all of whom have undergone military training and can pick up a gun with just a little guidance.

At least in Ivar's memory, that was the case in all their clashes with the Ark Eldar.

A small number of elite tribe warriors serve as the officer corps and the absolute backbone, surrounded by a large number of Guardian militia or a few vehicles: although this seemingly mixed configuration may appear vulnerable, thanks to the Ark Eldar's powerful technology and excellent physical talents, they are still a formidable opponent that can give Astartes a headache.

Given the same number of players, this seemingly mixed group is not easy to deal with at all.

As for now: the situation is even worse.

"call……"

Ivar lowered his body, listening to his own trembling breaths caused by extreme tension.

At the same time, his gaze would occasionally sweep over Ragnar standing beside him: this legendary figure wielding two axes was the highest-ranking officer of the Fifth Fleet, and also one of the top five, or even top three, fighters in the entire legion: even among all the Terran veterans, Ragnar's combat prowess and record were among the best.

A simple example is that, in all the real sword duels he participated in, only Bayar and Acudona were able to defeat Ragnar.

According to the descriptions of these two, their victory was not easy: Ragnar was a silver medalist capable of killing them in actual combat.

However, it should be noted that the First Legion will not participate in these real sword duels, as they are not interested in them.

But this is enough to show how powerful the Fifth Fleet's commander is, not to mention that his bodyguards are second only to him in strength: in all the years he has followed Ragnar in his campaigns, Ivar has never seen any panic on Ragnar's face.

Same now.

He wasn't panicked; instead, his face tightened as if facing a formidable enemy, and his thumbs unconsciously rubbed the rough axe handle. Ivar understood the subconscious meaning behind this action; he knew his old superior was contemplating a glorious death in battle.

So does he.

As he spoke, Ivar glanced once more at the Eldar army that was now fully equipped before him, his gaze sweeping over them with a sense of awe. Despite knowing that they were alien scum who were relentlessly pursuing humanity, Astartes couldn't help but feel moved as his eyes swept over the silent and orderly ranks.

What a beautiful sight!

In just a few breaths, the Eldar army that had emerged from the Network Hub lined up in perfect formation on a mound not far from the Astartes. Even the most discerning sons of the Emperor or the most cunning Dark Angels could not outdo these aliens who carried ancient glory: they simply stood there, their hundreds of silent faces resembling an army of a million men.

Leading the way were the leisurely, ferocious Avengers and the nightmarish, terrifying fire dragons: the former wore tall, grey-white helmets with glossy black manes, and their sky-blue armor was adorned with rubies or emitted an ominous, cold green glow. They carried swords on their backs, and their densely packed gun barrels formed two ranks.

Every few ferocious avengers, two fire dragons clad in bright red armor would appear, their molten spears sweeping everything away with flames like those of terrifying, cold-blooded monsters from mythology. Ivar also saw the gleaming molten bombs at their waists; he remembered how those weapons had destroyed the Empire's armored legions.

Ahead of hundreds of regular troops walked the most outstanding elites of the Ark Territory: only those who had mastered the essentials and essence of each branch of the Eldar warrior's way, becoming leaders who drew on the strengths of all schools, could be bestowed with the glory of the War Masters. They held golden sidearms and longswords that could unleash lightning, walking at the forefront.

Beside them, bishops wearing war helmets, with blood-red manes, and carrying cloaks and battle banners, were the representatives of the warrior temples of various tribes. The emblems on their bodies told of their different Ark worlds: Ivar could recognize the infamous Bietan and Iyanden, as well as the ominous Samhan and Usvi.

Further away, prophets clad in Eldar rune armor appeared and disappeared, along with even more ferocious war shamans. Surrounding them were hundreds of howling banshees with scarlet tails, whose masks could transform the wearer's battle cries into psionic shrieks that would stun the eardrums of the unfortunate.

In the more distant corners and crevices, the stealthy Assault Scorpions gently stroked their chainsaw longswords, several squads of Rangers slowly dissipated into the air, while the infamous Black Reapers raised their heavy-duty firepower, looking down on the entire battlefield with disdain.

Surrounded by them in the center were two Phoenix Lords who were already renowned. Even though Ivar and the others did not have a deep understanding of the Ark Eldar, they could still keenly recognize the identities of the two formidable enemies before them: the clothing of one of the Phoenix Eldar was exactly the same as that of the Howling Banshees who were already restless beside him.

Kinzhal, this alien name is not unknown in the Great Crusade. As the founder of the Howling Banshee Tribe Temple, she is a warmonger among the Phoenix Lords and has clashed with the Empire several times.

Standing to the left rear of Kinzhal, the Phoenix Lord wielding a Star Dart cannon was unfamiliar, but his attire was exactly the same as those of the Black Reapers: his chilling aura and the bloody scent of Kane's avatar emanating from his body sent shivers down one's spine.

"……call……"

"It's truly an honor..."

After carefully examining the face of the last Eldar warrior present, Ivar couldn't help but sigh.

There were no guardians or militia; standing before them were hundreds of tribe warriors, the elite of the Eldarin race whose names were known: even in the largest Ark worlds, dispatching such an army was no easy feat.

On paper, this Eldar army was capable of annihilating an Astartes force of equal numbers. As he thought this, an explosion and flash in near-Earth orbit illuminated Ivar's face: an Imperial destroyer had succumbed to its own fragility and the Xenomorph's firepower. But the commanders did not yield; they overloaded their warp engines, deciding to take several Eldar pirate ships that had gotten too close with them down with them.

This is what they need to do now.

Although Ragnar did not issue an order, everyone had already reached a consensus in their hearts.

They were making their final preparations, the only sound in the air the silent footsteps of the two Phoenix Lords.

And their conversation in the invisible space.

------

"There are actually humans here?"

“Not surprising.”

We had been unable to pinpoint the location of the human forces that had inadvertently stolen our artifacts from the Ghoul Stars: although we forced their main force into a spacetime turbulence, it was clear they already knew the artifacts' value and had secretly dispatched elite squads to smuggle them out of the Ghoul Stars.

"That's why we've chased them all the way here."

"But these humans do have some abilities: the defenses they set up before they died were enough to disrupt our defenses."

"If these later humans hadn't accidentally unlocked these measures, we wouldn't have found this place."

"Moreover, by the grace of the gods, it seems that this group of human troops did not come here specifically to receive the artifact: after all, their strength is pitifully weak."

"The battle has already been decided in near-Earth orbit."

"Don't be careless. Those pirates can't be trusted either. If the human fleet wants to perish together with the enemy, they will run away."

"It doesn't matter. What we really need are those artifacts that human armies are hiding behind their backs."

"So what should we do? Negotiate with them?"

"It looks difficult: these humans are ready to fight us to the death."

"Moreover, if they knew the value of the artifact, they would absolutely not give it up."

"Then do it."

"whispering sound……"

"In this light, the elites recruited from various worlds to protect the artifact have indeed come in handy."

Should we use a vehicle?

"No, it's too close."

"Also, keep an eye on your howling banshee: there are a few tough guys among these humans, Kinzar."

"They are not necessarily weaker than you."

"You don't need to remind me, Morgana."

------

The battle begins.

There was no negotiation, no delay, and no attempt at persuasion or a peaceful resolution: neither side's leaders were particularly eloquent diplomats. After the initial shock of their unexpected encounter subsided, and after another near-mutually devastating explosion in near-Earth orbit not far away, the two armies, like mortal enemies, charged at each other in a conflict that was sometimes silent and sometimes filled with battle cries.

The distance was simply too close. Neither Astartes nor Eldar had anticipated the outbreak of battle. When they finally saw each other clearly, the two closest soldiers, less than a hundred meters apart, could clearly see each other's eyebrows and noses. For Astartes or Eldar warriors, this distance was practically no different from close combat.

The banshees howled, their greyish-white figures leaving dark ravines in the inky sky. Like ferocious beasts, they crossed the battle line, charging at the forefront, wild yet disciplined. The War God and the Prophet led the well-organized and ferocious Avengers in close pursuit, like an unshakeable silver-white wall. Between the towering towers, fire dragons and assault scorpions unleashed their frenzied firepower.

Behind them, each bullet fired by the Rangers shrieked through the air, tearing through time. The heavily armed Black Reapers, though outnumbered, devoured Astartes with death or destruction whenever their large-caliber firepower flashed with deadly light. Within minutes of the start of the war, the first line of battle was filled with the corpses of warriors loyal to the Lord of Mankind.

But they are not alone, nor are they powerless.

The roar of chainsaws and power swords could also take the precious lives of tribe warriors. The Astartes warriors at the forefront, wielding sharp axes, fell one after another along with the Eldar tribe elites. The Howling Banshee tore apart two hearts with her stardart pistol and power sword, but in the blink of an eye, her head would be brutally twisted off and hurled at a fire dragon by its red mane. When the dragon was interrupted from firing, an explosive shell fired by an unknown technological weapon would accurately hit it between the eyebrows.

The ferocious avengers were torn to shreds along with their sky-blue armor, but before they died, they did not forget to pierce the heads of their opponents with their pistols. The powerful war priests and bishops were the most terrifying opponents they sought in the chaotic crowd. At their feet were piles of blood-soaked hills, but there were also corpses that were torn to pieces in mid-air.

Even the Black Death and Rangers, who were furthest away, could not completely escape this feast of mutual slaughter. After dozens of Astartes warriors were mercilessly picked off, these enemy sacrifices successfully bought enough time for the main force with their own lives: their comrades-in-arms, with fierce eyes, rushed from the rear of the battle line and opened those black boxes that had been sealed for a long time.

The battle has just begun.

(This chapter isn't finished yet; there will be another chapter later.)
(End of this chapter)