Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 339 It Was First
The followers of the Black Templars (Note 1) and the leader of their expeditionary detachment, Lord Caleb (Note 2), were planning to walk as quietly as possible through the bustling market of Golden Ridge and the towering dome of the Court of the Dead, which was covered with the commemorative faces of every dead wandering trader, to the central fortress of Wandering Port to meet the local mechanical priest maintenance masters at the agreed time.

Members of the ancient and powerful Astartes Order such as the Black Templars do not have to bargain with untrustworthy merchants in private to purchase supplies. They usually obtain everything they want through official channels - various ship and equipment repair services, food, fresh water, fuel, ammunition, promethium and servants.

Ever since the Black Templars' fleets of all sizes that were scattered throughout the galaxy to launch expeditions kept reporting back that they had heard the same broadcast call, it changed people's view that this was a prank or that some Chaos hostile force was trying to conduct psychological warfare to disrupt the Empire, because they were surprised to find that the entire content still had an astonishingly consistent and stable amount of data after being transmitted in space and time on a galactic scale, making the transmission technology of this broadcast, rather than its main content, the focus of Mars and Terra -

At the same time, the main navigator families on Terra and Mars have strong hostility and natural hatred towards this broadcast and its sender. They are frantically pursuing the originator or technology holder of this broadcast with the same enthusiasm as the followers of the Pantheon pursue the STC template. Obviously, they will either kill this person after mastering it, or kill this person directly.

But when the Navigator assassins and the Martian Survey Envoy fleet set out almost simultaneously, the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum, the Great Rift, changed everything.

It was during the Noctis Aeterna that Lord Caleb's strike cruiser was caught in a sudden turbulence of the Warp, and when they were next able to rush into the physical universe, the Black Templars' expeditionary detachment found themselves instantly carried by the Warp storm to the outskirts of the Calixis sector in the Nebulous Segmentum.

After drifting in the physical universe for a while and cautiously contacting the nearby Imperial garrisons and other chapters to obtain some information, they decided to follow the fate given by the God-Emperor and go to Wandering Port for supplies and repair their engines and shield generators damaged in the Warp Storm in the dock. Then, depending on the situation, they would consider going outside the Mouth to continue their never-ending expedition or find a larger Black Templar fleet to join up and participate in the next larger expedition.

Although there were many people here, it was obviously too much for a team of Space Marines to pass through the crowd in a low-key manner. Even the most daring brokers and merchants would never dare to take the initiative to step forward. The crowd automatically opened a path for the Emperor's Angel of Death in awe, just like the sea naturally parted in front of them. In the distance, some ragged ascetics or pilgrims knelt down in front of them and muttered incense and prayed. The oath parchment fixed with wax marks on the edge of their power armor fluttered with their steps.

Although before entering here, the Imperial Navy officer on the command deck who was actually in charge of this place in theory told these noble templars in black armor in accordance with regulations that random exchanges of fire and "purification" were theoretically prohibited in Wandering Port, and Castle Lord Caleb held down the angry priest brother Geratas next to the communication array, and then told the officers in a rather rational tone that they "knew".

Therefore, in this squad that is currently advancing majestically, the conversation in the squad channel in the helmet has never stopped for a moment.

"In the name of the Emperor! The evil of heretics and aliens here must be purified! What are we waiting for?! Caleb! Every inch of land and every cubic meter of air here is filled with the filthy smell of heretics and wizards that must be destroyed!"

"Geratos, we are in a free port that is under multiple supervision. The actual operating rules of the Chapter also remind us not to burn every Imperial free port we see to ashes, at least until we have completed our supplies. Once we have completed the repairs and supplies, we will leave here and carry out our expedition."

"My priest's staff is thirsty! Let the blood of wizards and aliens glorify and delight the God-Emperor!"

"All glory and blood belong to the glory of the God-Emperor. Watch your words, Geratos." The bunker owner's voice was undoubtedly calmer and more judgmental than the priest's. "Our cruiser still needs repairs at the shipyard here. If you really can't stand it, I can replace you next time I visit."

"Amazing, Caleb, and the unnecessary mercy next time! This is why you have always been in the position of castle lord and can no longer advance to marshal! Although your combat ability and experience are already sufficient!"

The rest of the believers continued to maintain a unified silence during the march.

"I would call it the wise use of the power given to us by the God-Emperor, to better strike at more powerful enemies and to better serve and please Him, Geratos."

The pastor's tone suddenly became sharper and he seemed even more irritable.

"Someone is staring at us aggressively in this filthy place, Caleb. A very... very... aggressive stare."

The castle lord frowned in his helmet. "I feel it. A rare pressure. My power armor tells me that the blood flow in my heart has increased by 30%. What is that?"

They turned their heads to track the source of their gaze among the crowd.

Pastor Geratos roared in extreme anger.

The eyes on the inhuman face were wide open at their group of people.

A Kroot mercenary. A foul xenos that dared to gaze upon the pure wrath of the God-Emperor with its unholy eyes!
He drew out his priest's staff.

It was the one that provoked first.

There is no way for the unclean to survive.

------

Magna Dorn walked to the door of the shop to get a better look at the people walking down the street in the distance.

His eyes swept across these majestic, deep black-based power armors, decorated with a large number of red wax and parchment scrolls. On the white shoulder armor background was a special cross emblem, representing the honor of every expedition, the proud record of the "Great Purge", and other similar combat events. The notes were pressed on the surface of their power armors together with the purity mark. The contents recorded on them made Magna, who saw them clearly, unconsciously reveal a hint of discomfort.

Just in the moment he thought about the familiar yet strange feeling these people gave him.

Suddenly, a huge war cry that became extremely loud through the priest's neck loudspeaker sounded in front of him:

"No mercy! No regrets! No fear! Tremble and perish under the wrath of the God-Emperor! Unholy alien!!!"

The power priest's staff with a decomposition stance whizzed towards his skull.

subconsciously.

Magna Dorn did what a well-behaved student with overwhelming fighting skills and strength but no actual combat experience would do.

He was in full view of the crowd, in front of countless followers of the Emperor or a team of Black Templars.

He caught it with his bare hands as easily as eating or drinking, and then snatched the scepter from Pastor Geratos.

The praises that were about to be shouted out from the fanatics disappeared like sand blown away by the wind. Almost all the humans present were concentrating and watching the alien's easy counterattack against the most powerful angel of death in the human race. The noisy street market was now so noisy that one could hear a pin drop.

"It seems that some battles to purify the xenos must be fought, for we must uphold the glory of the God-Emperor! For Dorn! For revenge!"

Castle Lord Caleb's words seemed to have pressed some kind of switch.

Completely unaware that he was still clad in his alien garb, Magnar Dorn found himself surrounded.

He blinked, glanced at the priest's staff in his hand, then gestured to hand it back upside down.

Pastor Geratos's angry and loud gasps caused the people around him to retreat in fear.

"Insults!!!!!!!!! Fight!!!!!!"

(End of this chapter)