Emperor's Bane

Chapter 919 The Day the War Begins

Chapter 919 The Day the War Begins (34)

Do you know how many warships we have?

Like fully armed warriors, the steel hulls of the naval warships shimmered like dragon scales under the distant sun. Admiral Asir could never tire of watching this scene, and it even improved his mood considerably.

When you're in a good mood, what could make you feel better than taking stock of your possessions?
What's more, sitting in front of him was a great young man who knew their shared property inside and out.

"Of course, my lord."

Chief of Staff Pickman nodded: such a basic question was certainly no challenge for him.

"The Belis Corona Sector Base under your jurisdiction is the highest naval authority in the entire Belis Sector and surrounding areas. All permanent fleets in all of the aforementioned regions are responsible to you, the Admiral and the Base Commander: including the Sector Fleet based at the Belis Corona Sector Base, as well as the Regional Fleets with their own branch bases. You have absolute command over their warships."

"This includes eight battleships."

“Three Nascent-class, two Emperor-class, one Auboron-class, and two Apocalypse-class: including your own flagship, the Golden Bloodline.”

"Below the battleships, we have a total of 116 cruisers of various types."

"This includes three Vengeance-class large cruisers, several squadrons of Luna-class and Gothic-class cruisers, and a large number of light cruisers, such as the Dreadnought-class and Unyielding-class."

"But the largest number are various types of frigates, destroyers and escort ships, such as Sword-class, New Star-class and Hunter-class."

"The number of these small ships is variable, and there are often personnel who are worn out or transferred from other regions to replace them."

"But according to the latest figures: we have a total of 558 small warships."

"In other words, the total number of warships of all sizes that can be mobilized at the entire Belize Crown District Naval Base is 682."

"Aren't these numbers pleasing to the eye?"

The admiral squinted his eyes contentedly.

Even in this dire situation, they can still mobilize over six hundred warships at any time. If you don't have a good grasp of this number, during the Great Crusade, the majority of the Primarchs personally commanded the main fleets of their legions, which totaled only a little over one hundred warships. Even the Avalon Navy, which boasts one of the largest fleets, could only mobilize a little over eight thousand warships at its most desperate effort.

In other words, even in a clash between giants like Shadowmoon Wolves and Avalon, Admiral Asir and his fleet are a real bargaining chip: any Primarch would spare no expense to win him over in order to expand their fleet by a tenth.

Of course, this is just thinking about it.

"After all, we are a hundred and eight thousand miles away from the front line."

Asir fidgeted with his fingers, hesitating whether to open a second bottle of wine.

To be honest, he was already a little drunk: the notoriously strong aftereffects of Catalin white wine were starting to kick in.

"You said... right, Pickman?"

"I'm afraid I can't agree with that view, sir."

The serious-looking chief of staff shook his head solemnly.

"According to the official definition, the Belize Coronary Zone Base is indeed one of the front-line bases."

"Frontline my ass!"

The admiral simply laughed and cursed.

"The front lines? You know what that means."

"What kind of frontline are we?"

"..."

The chief of staff did not argue back.

He knew that what the general said wasn't actually wrong.

Why has the Beliss Coronation Base, despite possessing a massive fleet, been implicitly regarded within the Navy as a place for exiling people for so long?

It is precisely because of its extremely awkward geographical location.

In short, the Belis Corona is an enclave located within the territory of the Space Wolves, but directly managed by Terra.

Speaking of the territory of the Space Wolves, commonly known as the Governor's Mansion of Fenris, there is an open secret: the kingdom of Lemanrus has three borders: south with Holy Terra, northwest with the Dark Angels, and northeast with the Shadowmoon Wolves.

Of these, Terra in the south is the safest and has the longest border. Shadowmoon Wolves in the northeast is the most dangerous, with a border second only to Terra, occupying the northern and eastern borders of Fenris respectively. As for Dark Angels in the northwest, they share a short border with Space Wolves and are far less dangerous than Shadowmoon Wolves.

Thus, the defensive focus of the entire Space Wolf Legion becomes self-evident: for a long time, the Wolf King has concentrated the vast majority of his legion's main force, as well as the core strength of his own and Terra's naval fleet, on the northeastern defensive line directly facing Horus, and naturally, he has not invested much in other areas.

The Beliss sector is located in the northwesternmost part of the entire Fenris Governor's Palace.

Within the defense zone under Admiral Asir's jurisdiction, almost the entire border is adjacent to the Dark Angels, with only a very small section in the far north bordering the Shadowmoon Wolf. Moreover, that is an asteroid belt with extremely difficult passage, and it is uncertain whether large fleets can even navigate through it. Not to mention that the entire Beliss sector is generally long and narrow, with the border with the Shadowmoon Wolf at the far north of the sector, while the Beliss Coronal Sector base is at the far south of the entire sector.

In other words, if the Shadowmoon Wolves wanted to invade from Admiral Asir's location, they would not only have to cross the extremely difficult asteroid belt, but also avoid all the outposts and patrol fleets in the entire sector. Most importantly, even if they were to conquer the Belis Corona Sector, they would have to expose their most critical logistical supply lines to the Dark Angels Legion's forces without reservation.

No one would be stupid enough to do that.

For this reason, neither the Admirals, Terra, nor the Primarchs believed that the battle would break out in the Beliss Sector. As a result, the Space Wolves never deployed any heavy forces in that direction. This confirmed the identity of the Beliss Coronal Sector Base as an unimportant fortress located in a key frontline position.

Therefore, although the naval base's location was not without its advantages—it was located not far northwest of Fenris, and once it was secured, Space Wolves' homeworld would be defenseless—no one ever really intended to take advantage of this advantage.

"Even a War General wouldn't do that."

The admiral assured him confidently.

"He would need to deploy at least three times the size of our fleet to have any chance of conquering the Beliss Sector, and then he would have to pray that the Dark Angels' army wouldn't cut off his supply lines. If I were Horus, I would choose a smarter approach: perhaps a direct confrontation with the Space Wolves?"

"Do you think the War General can do it?"

Pickman seemed very interested in this question.

"I don't care about these things."

But Asir just waved his hand impatiently.

"Terra, Wolf God, it doesn't matter to me which side wins."

"Similarly, I don't want my lads to die for either side in this war."

What can they possibly give us?

Faced with Asir's question, Pickman, who had maintained a polite smile, nervously pursed his lips.

"Who knows: maybe the Warlord will be the more generous ruler portrayed in the propaganda than Holy Terra?"

He tentatively opened his mouth.

"So what?"

Asir put down his glass. The short-term overdrinking made him feel hot and bothered. The rising alcohol fumes from his stomach numbed his senses. The admiral staggered to his feet, walked around the table twice, thanked Pickman for his help, and limped to the huge French windows.

"Don't forget, Pickman."

He sighed in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a cloud of white mist rising from the glass, thick with the smell of alcohol.

"The Emperor hasn't shown up yet."

"As long as he doesn't speak, Horus's identity will ultimately remain that of a rebel: no one can deny that."

"..."

This statement silenced the chief of staff.

But through the tacit understanding developed over a long period of time, Asier quickly realized one thing: his Chief of Staff Pickman was definitely not convinced.

Sure enough, after only a short while, perhaps having convinced himself, the staff officer mustered the courage to ask his superior the question.

"That's not entirely true, is it, sir?"

"..."

Asir did not turn around.

"What are you trying to say, Pickman?"

"I mean……"

The chief of staff took another step forward.

How do we know who the real rebels are?

"Perhaps... the real enemy is in Holy Terra?"

"..."

The admiral took a slow, deep breath.

Surprisingly, he wasn't actually surprised.

"Is that what you think, Pickman?"

Asir silently watched as a small fleet slowly sailed into the port.

What a fine captain and sailors! Even back at the absolute safety of their base, these warships maintain excellent battle formation and remain vigilant. "This is not an idea, sir."

The chief of staff's voice sounded behind him: "Still as obedient and rational as ever."

"This is just a deduction based on the understanding of reality."

"You know, that's the Holy Terra."

"It doesn't have a good reputation here."

"Of course I know."

The admiral gave a disgruntled snort.

At the same time, his gaze casually swept over the bustling port area.

Was it his imagination? Why did it seem like there were more sailors coming and going in the square and passageway than usual?

Is today a new arrival date?
Asir scratched his head and sighed: because he wanted to say something good about Terra, but he didn't seem to have any solid evidence to offer.

In his agitated state, and fueled by the alcohol, the admiral paid little attention to these trivial matters.

After all, as a naval base, these things are not surprising: the things those sailors bring back from each voyage are truly wild.

"We all remember what caused the last riot by sailors that swept through the entire naval port?"

"Yes."

Pickman nodded.

"Most of these sailors' families were settled in the rear worlds of the Beliss Sector. As a result, Terra sent people to collect an enormous amount of taxes a few years ago, which even led to a humanitarian disaster in these worlds. The news was not covered up and spread to the port. Tens of thousands of sailors rioted after hearing about it. They even seized control of two battleships at one point."

"I remember you were the one who resolved this matter."

Asir turned to the side, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration as he looked at Pickman.

"You're always so capable."

"I remember how you resolved it: you suggested expanding the family quarters at the naval base and relocating most of the sailors' families to the vicinity of the naval port, and then you negotiated with the representatives brought forward by the rioting sailors. Thinking about it now, I am still amazed by it. Pickman, you actually convinced them with just a few conditions?"

"It was just a fluke."

The chief of staff smirked.

"Moreover, my lord, it was that incident that made me completely distrust Holy Terra and the High Lords."

"So you think Horus is better?"

"Horus at least promised... change?"

"..."

The admiral remained silent for a moment.

Then he laughed.

He turned around and looked at the antique clock hanging on the wall: it was almost three o'clock in the afternoon.

Just a few seconds left.

"Trust me, my child."

"Change is not necessarily a good thing."

"One day, you will understand."

"The so-called change is nothing more than the Wolf Shepherd using..."

"Click——"

"boom--"

Three sounds came at the same time.

The conversation was still going on, then the announcement that the clock was ticking down to 3 p.m., and... the sound of gunfire.

All the sounds came at the same time, instantly freezing the admiral in place.

"what happened?"

Before he could even ask a question, just as a hunter's gunshot startled a flock of wild ducks in a swamp, the gunfire at three in the afternoon also suddenly woke up the vast naval base: accompanied by gunfire in the square, in the streets, in the houses, from the high outposts to the underground fortresses, from the drowsy lounges to the heavily guarded armories, countless gunshots first crackled and exploded, and in the blink of an eye, they roared like thunder on the horizon.

Like a whirlwind whipping up pebbles, the gunfire that swept through the port quickly unleashed a frenzy of panic and chaos, like an avalanche. Gunfire, explosions, shouts, yells, and cries for survival came from every corner, mixed with the cries of children, the wails of women, orders to seize the armory that seemed to come from nowhere, and the hysterical shouts of a few port guards.

The bustling crowd stood frozen in place, scattering like headless flies, swept along like mud in a torrent, or scattered like a flock of startled birds. In the blink of an eye, the streets were no longer as prosperous as before, with thick smoke rising everywhere and buildings being toppled. Soldiers, whose allegiance was unknown, held guns, with their fallen comrades and civilians unfortunate enough to be hit by stray bullets beside them.

"By the Emperor..."

The admiral prayed softly; the events of the past few seconds had been so horrifying that he hadn't yet had time to process them.

But he soon realized what was going on.

riot!

This is a riot!
Oh my god...

As gunfire and explosions began to engulf the entire Belize Crown District base, memories from the past decades were also assaulting the admiral's mind. He recalled the scene of the last sailors' riot: angry soldiers overthrew the military police formation, opened the ammunition depot, and took out the guns and bombs inside. They shouted crazy slogans, detained and even hanged all the senior officers they could catch, and some audacious ones even tried to turn the ship's main guns around and bombard the admiral's headquarters.

No...no, no!

This must never happen again!

The shout that surged from the depths of his heart instantly sobered the admiral, who was already half-drunk.

"chief of staff!"

He screamed hysterically, completely ignoring the fact that his voice cracked from the sudden sound.

"Quick! Quick! Go to the communications room and get the armed forces and military police all moving. I'm giving you authority to immediately suppress the riot: Tell the captains to immediately move their warships away from the harbor and away from the riot area, then seal the locks of the ammunition magazines with tin, and like last time, remove the breechblocks from the deck cannons..."

"Damn!!!"

Halfway through his sentence, the admiral suddenly started cursing loudly again, because a flash of fire in the distance was all too familiar to him.

That's the signal for the warships to fire!

Sure enough, the small fleet that had just returned to the naval port suddenly stopped and opened fire on the ships anchored in the harbor. Judging from the speed of their firing and the accuracy of their concentrated attacks, this was definitely not a spur-of-the-moment action. At least the possibility that the sailors seized the gun barrels through a riot and then opened fire was ruled out: this level of firing was definitely the result of the entire ship working together.

What does this mean?
As the cruiser, which had been hit by concentrated fire, began to emit thick smoke, the admiral's face turned ashen. He recognized the cruiser; if he remembered correctly, its captain was a staunch Terra loyalist.

This indicates that this was a premeditated rebellion involving high-ranking naval officers, including captains!

It wasn't a riot! It was a rebellion!

Asir's breathing began to tremble.

No, that won't work: the measures we just took are completely insufficient.

"Pickman!"

He struggled to move his damned lips, dragging his still somewhat unsteady body, past the chief of staff, and quickly walked towards the door.

"Quickly! Send me a message..."

"No! You're coming with me..."

"Crack!"

"..."

"!"

He had only spoken halfway when the admiral's brisk pace abruptly stopped.