Emperor's Bane

Chapter 925 Day of Slaughter (13)

Leading the charge, the Herakfin burst forth from the roaring highest heavens.

Like ghostly tentacles, the energy slapped against the overloaded Geller force field, only to be torn to shreds by the gravitational waves of the conflict between the real universe and the warp. Even the mighty Queen of Glory could only bounce up and down, patiently waiting for Mandeville's indicators to eventually steer towards a more stable direction before she could unleash her engines at full power and burst forth from the already unpredictable course of the High Heavens.

"Jump complete, entering physical space."

"The warship has arrived at its destination: undamaged."

The Star Speaker's emotionless voice echoed in every corner of the command team.

"very good."

Lemanrus rose from his inscribed stone throne, Dionysus's spear in his left hand, its golden surface reflecting the Primarch's solemn face: ever since he ordered the conscription of his legions, Lemanrus had never let this weapon out of his sight, just as he had never touched a drop of wine since.

In fact, the latter event shocked the wolves far more than the war itself. Many space wolves stared at Lemanrus for hours, and after confirming that their Primarch had indeed not touched a drop of alcohol, their expressions were as if they had seen Magnus come to life.

Indeed, at least in the wolves' minds, the Crimson King had long since returned to the underworld: this ending, devoured by his own arrogance, was perfectly in line with Fenris's values.

Some were even whispering: Is the Primarch issuing so many strange orders because he hasn't had a drink in so long that his head has become muddled?
"Pass on my orders."

Lemanrus extended his hand, and someone immediately placed the communicator in the Primarch's palm.

"All fleets, accelerate and leave the Mandeville point area as soon as possible to rendezvous at the designated location."

"Maintain a tight formation and prepare for battle."

"Also, tell Yolin to leave him and his thirteenth company at the rear of the fleet: I need a stabilizing anchor."

The command startled the mortals around the Primarch who were writing furiously, but no one dared to ask any questions.

Generally speaking, the Space Wolves' naval tactics can be described as mediocre. They have almost no sophisticated tradition of void warfare and instead rely on bravery and recklessness to implement their ideas: although the wolves never reject cunning tactics such as luring the enemy deep into their territory, they also abhor sacrificing the weak as bait to increase their chances of winning in fleet battles.

It wasn't out of pity, but rather because such behavior would make hunters feel particularly demeaned.

In the wolves' mind, the glory of challenging a far stronger enemy with their weak energy, and using this belief of sacrificing themselves to win a chance of victory with their comrades behind them, is something only the truly brave and fearless can possess: to hand over such an opportunity to mortals is tantamount to admitting that the entire Sixth Legion are cowardly cowards.

Rather than bear such a despicable reputation, the wolves would rather die in battle.

This is why the fleet formations of the Sons of Ruth have never been innovative. They are accustomed to stacking the powerful warships commanded by Astartes at the front of the fleet as the vanguard and main force in the entire war, while the ships of mortals remain at the rear of the formation, joining the war when necessary to fill the battle lines or cover the flanks.

In most cases, Ruth would not leave Jorin's company at the rear. The Thirteenth Company is the most powerful force under the Wolf King's command, and the Wolf King is used to letting his old Fenris buddies serve as the vanguard to clear the way with blood and fire. But this time, the Primarch has no choice but to put his werewolves in a more important position.

More than the vanguard, he needed Jorin Bloodhowl's forces to keep an eye on the mortals in the rearguard fleet: the large-scale infiltration of the Wolf God was already an open secret. No one knew exactly how many captains and officers in the Space Wolves' main fleet had secretly defected to the Wolf God, but the total number was certainly staggering.

Ruth didn't want them to bother her.

With all his fathers above, his assassination plan was already bold enough, and he didn't need a group of mortal traitors to add new pressure to him: Horus was not Johnson, nor Conrad or Fugrim. If it were those brothers, although the Wolf King acknowledged their strength, he did not think he would be without a chance of winning.

Especially Zhuang Sen.

Although theoretically, the Lion and his brother, whose name had been erased, were not actually that different in terms of martial arts skills and ruthlessness, and the Caliban might even be a little more ruthless, Leman Russ still listed the former as a possible target to be defeated, while the latter was a formidable enemy that he could not possibly contend with: of course, the most important reason was that he could not admit that he was no match for Johnson.

This is a matter of attitude.

He's not going to lose to that slovenly bastard.

But Horus: Horus is different.

Horus possesses a magical power. Even if you know he has many flaws, and even if you can personally defeat him in many areas, you will still regard him as an invincible and powerful opponent: completely defeating Horus is an unimaginable fantasy, and even the greatest victory is nothing more than perishing together with him.

At least for Ruth, this was certainly the case: the Warmaster was an obstacle he couldn't get past.

"I really hope this will work..."

After issuing the orders, Lemanrus immediately tossed the communicator aside. He turned his wrist, gripped the Dionysian Spear tightly, pressed its ever-cold gold against his cheek, and murmured in a low voice: or perhaps he was confiding in his weapon.

"Although I had a feeling that my father didn't support me doing this."

"But Father Quan...where are you now?"

Before the war officially began, this was the only issue that still worried Lemanrus.

Although more than a decade ago, when he was discussing the offensive against Horus with the Marker and Rogdorn, the Wolf King had privately approached Macardo and quite bluntly raised the question of the Emperor's whereabouts, Lemanrus still did not know the answer to this question, because the Marker had not told him back then.

Although it may sound unbelievable that Lemanrus was the closest to Macardo of all the Primarchs, the Wolf King did understand the status and hardships of the Marksmen better than his other brothers. However, this did not mean that he was the most trustworthy in the eyes of the Marksmen: when there was a secret that had to be revealed, Macardo preferred to reveal it to the Queen of the Far East rather than the Wolf King.

This has always been a tradition of the imperial family. Whether it is the Lord of Humanity himself, the Seal Bearer, or even the various Primarchs who carry the imperial bloodline, the people they love most and the people they trust most are often not the same person: those who are held in the palm of their hands may never know their true secrets in their lifetime, while those who know the secrets are often just casual acquaintances.

Lemanrus understood this principle.

Because he was that kind of person: no matter how much the Primarch liked those werewolves who had emerged from the snows of Fenris like him, he could never entrust the most meticulous work to these unreliable fellows. On the contrary, the company commander Gunhild, who didn't get along well with the Primarch and was a talkative old stubborn man who had clashed with the Wolf King several times, was actually handpicked by Lemanrus to be the one who could take charge of the entire Sixth Legion when he was away.

Ruth never lets his emotions take over his mind: at least not when he is able to think calmly.

Therefore, even though he had long suspected that the Emperor's seclusion was suspicious, the Wolf King still suppressed his curiosity. It wasn't until he realized that the Emperor's seclusion was about to ignite a brotherly war that would sweep across the galaxy that Ruth questioned the Marksman in a fit of anger.

Macardo did not give him a direct answer.

Just as he had responded to Dorne during the crisis on Terra, the Marksman took what he considered the most appropriate approach: he described the whole affair to the Wolf King in a vague truth: he mentioned enemies more terrifying than the Great Crusade and the Emperor’s desire to fight them, but did not delve into anything further. He told Ruth that the Lord of Men was indeed overwhelmed at the moment, but ignored the Primarch’s request to see the evidence with his own eyes.

But just as Macardo had predicted, although he didn't get the answer he wanted, after carefully listening to Macardo's story, sitting quietly on the hill outside the palace walls all night, and finding his rune priest to divine the fortune of the special being in the crater using Fenris's ancient methods, Lemanrus finally chose to believe the Marker's words.

Even after the Terra crisis, the Wolf King's attitude remained unchanged. Apart from still being suspicious of the Emperor's whereabouts, he single-mindedly rushed to the Wolf God, bringing with him all the power he could.

"What about the follow-up fleet? Why haven't Bloodhowl and Death Wolf reached their combat positions yet?"

After whispering prayers, worrying inwardly, and once again adjusting his mindset, Lemanrus found himself slumped on the throne for more than twenty minutes. What angered him most was that only a small portion of the Space Wolves' fleet had emerged from the warp, and Mandeville Point remained as tediously busy as ever.

"The situation is more complicated than you think, sir."

The mortal captain of the Herakfin strode up to his master and bowed in greeting: Mortals in such key positions are not only professionals, but also "wolf slaves" brought from Fenris. Their souls are imbued with the scent of space wolves, and they could never betray Lemanrus's orders in their lifetime.

"This galaxy is currently in the midst of a subspace tide, and the connection between the real universe and the High Heavens is stronger than we originally anticipated. It is also more difficult for warships to break free from the constraints of Mandeville Point. Moreover, we have never had the experience of commanding such a large fleet before, and many senior commanders are somewhat out of sorts. They need more time to adapt to the new situation."

"As expected."

The Wolf King's expression was somewhat grim. He stared directly at the enormous red star in the center of the star map. This giant star, glowing with blood-red light, made the entire galaxy uncolonable. Its enormous size and high-intensity radiation were enough to interfere with the Space Wolf's divination device and enemy detection radar: in other words, it would be an excellent ambush location.

"Damn it..."

Ruth muttered to himself, relying on his past military experience, he roughly estimated that hundreds of warships could be lurked in the shadow of that red giant star, and even if he kept his eyes glued to the detector's screen, his superhuman eyes could not detect a single clue.

But soon, Lemanrus began to question his judgment: even for battleships, getting too close to a star like this was dangerous, as the surging plasma and high-energy particles were enough to tear apart the void shield, and the gravitational vortexes and coronal currents carried by the star itself could burn any warship that got too close to ashes.

Would Horus really hide his main fleet in such a dangerous place?

He will lose a large number of troops before the battle even begins, and his warships will suffer excessive losses in the battle because they cannot activate their Void Shields in time.

"Tsk..."

"Horus..."

After a moment's thought, the wolf king shook his head in frustration.

Hopefully, it's just his paranoia; after all, this isn't exactly a high-risk area.

They are still far from the front lines.

"What about Black Mane in Dalian? Have they sent back any messages?"

Lemanrus numbly counted the warships pouring out from the unpredictable High Heavens, one by one until his head began to ache: just as his mortal captain had said, Space Wolf had never gathered so many ships since its inception, not even the Primarch himself could truly coordinate them.

Fifty years of development and expansion were on full display at this moment. Even outsiders like the Space Wolf Legion, through the efforts of the various wolf lords, still managed to contribute a large army to Russ.

Despite having only nine Dalians, the Wolf King still possessed 1066 warships of various sizes at this time.

Such a massive space fleet would be almost impossible to maintain in unison, which is why the Wolf King kept asking about Blackmane Dalian: he needed this team, which had set off ahead of time, to determine the correct route for him and guide him steadily to the front line, so as to avoid the fleet being ambushed as soon as it entered an unfamiliar star system.

"We were unable to contact the owner of the Heimdal Wolf Pack."

The chief communications officer responded loudly to his Primarch.

"But we observed that there are more than a dozen warships belonging to the Black Mane Dalian that are stationed in this star system."

"They just sent us a communication request."

"Communication request?"

The wolf king paused for a moment, then strode forward.

"Give it to me, I'll do it myself."

The Primarch took the button from the bridge loudspeaker from the Chief Communications Officer. Before deciding to intervene, Lemanrus suddenly remembered something, turned around, and asked the attendants and wolf slaves beside him.

"correct?"

What's this place called?

He was quickly responded to.

"The Giant Galaxy, my lord."

"Legend has it that somewhere in this galaxy, a fierce naval battle once took place: after one side's warship was destroyed and boarded by the enemy, a legendary warrior as tall as a giant blocked an entire enemy force in the narrowest part of the bridge to cover his teammates behind him, until he was attacked from behind by the enemy and killed."

“I love this story.”

The Wolf King gave a brief assessment before peering out toward the bridge loudspeaker.

"I am Lemanrus, respond."

"My lord... this is... the Bloodworm Vanguard."

The sound was intermittent and muffled, but Lemanrus was completely unaffected: the Empire's technology could not yet guarantee immersive communication between every warship, and flaws and grammatical errors were common problems.

More than anything else, Wolf King was concerned about the person standing on the other end of the voice communication. He quickly thought about the names of Blackmane Dalian and Bloodworm Vanguard, as well as every Space Wolf stationed on that warship: if all of this was a trick by some enemy, then it has to be said that they chose a very difficult target.

Blackmane Dalian was Fenris's old base, and Bloodworm Vanguard was a warship that had been in service since Leman Russ reunited with the Legion. Wolf King had a deep impression of them and knew their offspring like the back of his hand: Russ could already figure out their identities just by listening to the retroflex consonants in their words.

"Dagwad, is that you?"

The sound turned into silence, very briefly.

"Sir, I am Toleg, from the 134th Company."

"Sergeant Dagwad is on the gun deck: should I call him over?"

"No, it's nothing."

The wolf king's breathing calmed down: it seemed that the person on the other end of the communication was indeed his offspring.

Whether it's the voice, tone, or habits, it's indeed the Space Wolf that he knows best.

"Report on your situation."

"Lord Heimdall originally intended to lead the main force of the pack to respond to the distress call from the Saraphnia system, but just as we left the High Heavens, we received your order to summon the entire legion in the name of the All Father: just as Lord Heimdall hesitated on how to respond to your call, we were attacked by the Shadowmoon Wolves in the Horvald system."

"Hovallid?"

The Wolf King quickly considered the matter. It was indeed a world close to the front lines, and a crucial route from Blackmane's base in Dalian to Sarafonia: a highly secretive route, unlikely to appear on official star maps, and a result of Lemanrus's private discussions with his Wolf Lord. The Primarch's doubts gradually dissipated. He glanced at the fleet steadily gathering at Mandeville: it might still take several hours.

"Go on."

"We repelled the Shadowmoon Wolves in the skirmish, but we also suffered heavy losses. Lord Heimdall deduced that Horus's main force should not be far from us, and that any reckless action could lead to annihilation. He ordered our squadrons to return to the rear star systems to guide the subsequent reinforcements to the front-line star systems we currently occupy, while he himself would keep a close watch on the Shadowmoon Wolves."

"Taking risks is something he's capable of doing."

The Wolf King laughed, his mind racing, rapidly considering all the possibilities.

Finally, he nodded.

"I understand: lead the way."

The response to Lemanrus was a Fenris howl that was as perfect as could be.

This amused not only the Wolf King, but even Lemanrus's attendants.

"Listen to me, sir."

A rune priest nodded to his Primarch.

"If such a standard wolf howl came from a traitor, I'd cut my head off right now."

The Primarch shoved his offspring aside, then turned and roared at the entire command deck.

"My offspring and my wolf slaves!"

"Activate the shields to maximum, charge the cannons, and send all the remaining energy to the engines. Run at full speed and sail at top speed: We must cross this route with the mindset of being ready to engage in battle at any moment. Horus and his serpents could emerge from the shadows at any time, and we cannot allow him to gain the upper hand!"

The wolves on deck and the Herakfin responded to their master with deafening roars. The Glory Queen and her passengers, full of complaints about the overloaded reactor, sped through the starry sky. Countless distant stars expanded and were quickly left behind. The crew members were unsteady on their feet due to the impact of acceleration, but the avalanche-like laughter and shouts always lingered in their ears.

Queen Glorious led the way, followed by over six hundred Wolf Pack warships hurtling towards the other side of the galaxy. They had no time to wait for the werewolf fleet behind them, or the rearguard fleet mainly composed of mortals, and eagerly followed the Hall of Righteousness, heading towards Mandeville Point on the other side of the galaxy: a fleet lacking sufficient vigilance, yet powerful enough to disregard it.

Undoubtedly, just as the captain of the Herakfin had warned Lemanrus, the barriers between the warp in the Giants system were far too weak. Simply speeding through its unstable areas caused many of the Space Wolves' warships to experience unimaginable turbulence, making their formation increasingly scattered. The Primarch tried to stop them, but his attention was drawn elsewhere.

Unlike his sons who were shouting and fighting wildly, King Fenris's last trace of joy vanished completely after he gave the order to advance. Lemanrus remained standing in front of the now indistinct oracles, staring intently at the Black Mane Dalian fleet leading the way and the back of the star that unsettled him.

As the Heraklion fleet drew closer to the enormous red giant, flashes of radiation danced on the ship's void shields. The mass effect of the massive celestial body plowed through the spacetime framework, causing hundreds of ships to toss and turn in chaos. Not only did the oracles lose their working principle, but even the probes were unable to transmit any information.

The Primarch cursed angrily, then shouted for his wolf slaves to raise the armored glass on the porthole and turn the transparency to the maximum: he faced directly at the blood-red giant star that blinded the Astartes, and perhaps murderous intent lurked behind that cold, blazing light.

He stared at the star, his palms clenched tightly behind his back, sweat pouring down his face. He forgot that his fleet had already advanced into the heart of the system, and that the rearguard fleet had not yet made it out of Mandeville Point: the wolf pack's formation was already too long, not a formation suitable for war.

But from beginning to end, they didn't smell any gunpowder in this galaxy.

Was he really just scaring himself?

As the Herakfinl drew ever closer to the sun before them, speeding past its dazzling red light, its outlines etched by beams of high-energy gas sending excited screams through the communications, the Primarch was almost certain of his suspicions: it was indeed a misunderstanding, and the ships ahead were innocent as well.

But before he could even catch his breath, the bright silver shadow on the back of the star made Lemanrus's hair stand on end.

"Horus!"

He almost cried out if it weren't for the Queen of Glory's excessively rapid pace, which quickly revealed the full extent of these enemies to everyone: they were so close, separated from them only by a layer of armored glass.

They were just a few lumps of scrap metal, reduced to mere skeletons. Plasma, falling like snakes, was peeling away from their hulls, and powerful electromagnetic fields were destroying their engines and lights. Clearly, these were ships that had come too close to their stars and unfortunately collided with a celestial catastrophe.

"Shall we take a closer look, sir?"

The captain issued an inquiry.

“These ships do not appear to belong to the Space Wolves Legion’s combat order of battle, but they are indeed warships.”

"..."

"No, no need."

After a moment of silence, Lemanrus gave his answer.

He stared silently at the scrap metal until he was sure there were no ambushes around it before he breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems his animal instincts aren't always accurate...

"grown ups!"

Before the Primarch could even relax, the wolf slave operating the bird divination device let out a loud cry.

"The Bloodworm Vanguard is in trouble!"

"What's wrong!"

Wolf King practically sprinted over, his eyes glued to the tactical map. The Bloodworm Vanguard fleet was right at the edge of the map, just outside the maximum firing range of the Herakfin: it was indeed a coincidence that made one suspicious.

"The Bloodworm Vanguard and its sister ships haven't moved since three minutes ago."

This statement caused the Primarch to unconsciously tighten his grip on the edge of the instrument.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure, they..."

Before Wolf Slave could finish speaking, a blinding flash of fire drew the attention of everyone on Rus's side. All eyes on the command deck turned to the trembling tactical map, which clearly showed a tragedy.

"The Bloodworm Vanguard exploded?"

"No...it seems like it was swallowed up?"

Amidst the astonished voice of the mortal captain, Lemanrus turned to look at the tactical map.

Like a shattered hand of the void, it slammed heavily onto the fragile surface of the Bloodworm Vanguard. This powerful warship was gripped and crushed by an unseen force, bending like a flattened bottle. The tactical map clearly showed the sparks flying due to the fire in the instruments and the overload of the circuits. The void shields covering the entire ship began to twist and deform to a visible degree, until the entire ship was swallowed up in a black fire.

Just as others argued, even Lemanrus couldn't be sure: did the ship explode, or was it swallowed by some unseen force?

Even more bizarrely, it wasn't just the Bloodworm Vanguard. The dozen or so ships that Blackmane Dalian had left behind to scout ahead all followed in the footsteps of their fleet flagship. From cruisers to frigates, regardless of size or condition, the same bursts of fire and twisting deformation appeared one after another, before being swallowed into the void by an unseen giant hand.

"By the Father above..."

When Ruth realized what was happening, he found it was too late to stop it. Clearly, something had been drawn to the Bloodworm Vanguard by its sacrifice, whether willingly or unwillingly. Surrounding the lingering black flames, a tangible vortex emerged from the real universe. Even though the Primarch could not see it with his own eyes, he knew that its texture carried the scent of the warp.

It was obvious that the innocent deaths of more than a dozen ships had shattered the already fragile barrier between the real universe and the warp, creating a tiny rift that created a vortex in front of the Space Wolf. This vortex was now expanding at a visible speed: in the blink of an eye, it had grown to the point that the Primarch could see it through the porthole.

Worse still, as this nameless vortex gradually takes shape, something seems to be emerging.

The Primarch caught a glimpse of the ship's sensor chief jumping up from his seat.

"An unknown signal has been received."

Despite his best efforts to remain calm, he couldn't suppress the tremor in his voice.

"From the front..."

"That's a ship! It's huge!"

Lemanrus heard himself taking a deep breath.

"It's the Glory Queen level!"

Now, all he could hear was silence: the entire command deck was shrouded in an unimaginable silence.

Which ship was it?

Lemanrus was amazed at how steady his voice was: he soon got the answer.

"It's the Ruby King! Horus's ship!"

"It has activated its shield, all primary and lethal weapons are firing, and..."

Halfway through his speech, the sensor supervisor suddenly stopped, as if a merciless hand had grabbed his neck.

"What else?"

Ruth turned around and found the mortal official who had followed him for thirty years staring at him in horror.

"There's a second ship, sir."

"Glory Queen level...unknown..."

"..."

"very good."

Ruth heard himself say that.

"It seems..."

"The third signal, sir!"

The Primarch's voice was interrupted.

"A battleship, not in front of us, suddenly appeared to our left rear, without any prior indication..."

"No, more warships! They suddenly appeared out of the void."

"I observed ten battleships and at least fifty cruisers. No, that was a minute ago. The number has doubled now. By the Emperor, the number of battleships is still increasing. It has now reached fifty."

"The fourth signal! It's on our right!"

"A Horusian warship has also appeared to the left front..."

"Twenty ships...fifty ships...one hundred ships..."

"By the Emperor! They're everywhere!"

"At least a thousand... no, three thousand!"

No! More!

"Their warships are in every direction!"

As the sensor chief projected the data of the two Glory Queens onto the display screen, the entire command deck was filled with the screams of the sensor specialists: the hair-raising numbers kept climbing, and every second at least dozens of ships appeared from impossible locations, as if they had always been there, as if they could easily overcome the technological hurdles that the Empire had previously overcome.

One thousand... three thousand... five thousand...

On the magnified oracles, countless red dots circled the slender array of space wolves.

Rus brought all his power, but Horus brought at least five times more power than Lemanrus.

"..."

The Wolf King stood still, lost in a strange state of quiet and concentration, as if the panic of the mortals around him and the roars of his offspring had no effect on him. He simply stared intently ahead until he could see the outline of the Ruby King with his naked eye, until the famous blood-red and gold paint appeared before his eyes. Then, Lemanrus found himself laughing.

……

"You've really mastered the wolf howl, Horus..."

(End of this chapter)