Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 704 (5) Sense of Disharmony -
"The official attack will begin in 40 minutes."

The helmet concealed Sigismund's face very well. He stood there seemingly taking a rest, but in fact, those ineffable, unthinkable and immeasurable floating points in the thought matrix were performing calculations for him to simulate human thinking.

So far, everything has been so bland.

This planet is just an ordinary mineral planet, and there are no strategic points within a few light years.

This little battle is not at any critical time point.

So what is his purpose in coming here to fight?

Was it not just to give him a reason to sneak in—correct that word—return to the Imperial Fists?
If that's all, what good would that do Perturabo?
Or, if it were just such a simple matter - a non-existent chill rose from the inside of his main-sequence star-core-like reactor - if it were just such a simple matter, would he, Sigismund's soul and his current body be needed?
It's clear that the Lord of Steel has big plans.

But he still can't see the full picture of the conspiracy.

And the significance behind this group of Astartes serving the Inquisition...

He still needs to continue observing and experiencing, but before that, he decided to clear this place out first.

Perturabo had no restrictions written into his code that prohibited him from killing heretics, xenos, and traitors.

Whatever his reasons for doing it, it was exactly what Sigismund needed.

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"Honestly," Malachai crouched and approached Kolisius quietly as their team of ten took turns to advance on alert. "I was a little skeptical of him. You know, drifting in the warp."

"I understand." The sergeant's face, which looked ferocious due to the tattoo, showed an expression that was almost a smile. "Your chapter tradition and service department require you to be vigilant at all times."

"I am glad that the Imperial Fists' judgment is always so fair, Kolisius."

"So you don't doubt him now?"

The Dark Angel sighed and straightened himself, exposing himself to the edge of the battlefield where the sounds of gunfire and swords had ceased. "How can I doubt such an extraordinary sword master? I mean, if the man who wields such a blade chooses to betray us, then it doesn't matter if I doubt it or not."

"It is not the tradition of the Sons of the Lion to belittle oneself."

"of course not."

Colisius also straightened up.

There was no need to advance covertly, as the enemies in the equipment hall had been wiped out by the Volpes brothers in one encounter.

Now, only Helian An, who was the tallest, strongest and most warlike, was still following Volpes. The two of them had already rushed to the outside of two rooms. Sporadic shooting and Helian An's disappointed roars were still ringing.

This defense hall, which was originally expected to require a hard fight to take down, is now filled with fresh blood.

Twisted, redundant limbs, barbs, claws, wings and bodies branded with blasphemous symbols were intertwined. In addition, they could vaguely make out the uniforms of the Crusader Army and Auxiliary Guards who were originally stationed here from the pile of corpses.

The guards here were obviously well-equipped. The two captains could distinguish radium carbines, plasma rapid-fire guns and Taser electric weapons in their eyepieces, but many of the guards were killed before they could even fire the first shot.

The only expressions that could be read on those faces that were so corrupted and deformed that they could hardly see any human features were confusion and fear. The only thing they had in common was a fatal, clean and huge wound - either on the neck or in the stomach - only one.

"A warrior who could certainly strike fear into the enemy's heart and drive them to fight," Malachai said, his visor flickering with some analysis of the corpses' mortal wounds. "If he is so powerful, it seems that his survival from his warp trek was more than luck."

"You know what." Velisus walked over amidst the oil, chemical liquids, and blood, and sheathed his duel sword that was not stained with the blood of his enemies. A thoughtful expression appeared on his face. "I'm beginning to think that one of the ten candidates for the next Blade Feast must be kicked out."

"Do you think it will be you?"

"Who knows?"

"The passage behind is branching." Malakai walked over. "The enemies here are better equipped than those in the previous chambers, and their corruption and mutation are more serious. From this, it can be seen that there is undoubtedly a Chaos Altar in the core laboratory in addition to the weaponsmith's forge. That means the resistance there must be the most intense, and the defense facilities are the most solid."

Velisus and Myrdor exchanged glances, while Colisius frowned.

"You did say 'weaponsmith', didn't you, Malachai?"

The latter closed his mouth and made an apologetic gesture towards his old friend. "No, it's my fault. This is the work of the Inquisition. I'm sorry, but it has nothing to do with you, Kolisius. You can leave some of the advance work to us. Let us act first. My team has technical sergeants and snipers to deal with the defensive fortresses and wizards."

If the Imperial Fists had other thoughts, it did not show on their faces.

However, when they agreed to let the Death Watch go ahead, Kolisius immediately summoned Helian and Volpes and reported the matter to the captain.

"The honor of killing the weaponsmith must never be obtained by anyone outside the Imperial Fists." Helian An growled.

The others nodded in agreement, except for Sigismund, who frowned his bionic brow beneath his helmet.

The title sounds a bit like a war blacksmith, and the Chaos Astartes guards here are indeed wearing the ancient equipment of the Iron Warriors, so is this an Iron Warriors officer with special significance?

He searched his database and found nothing more relevant.

Was that correct? He and his database were forged by Perturabo, but he couldn't find data on Iron Warriors officers.

Regardless, the breathing and heartbeat rates and combat hormone levels of the other five Imperial Fists increased significantly, their wills became more focused on this name, and their enthusiasm for fighting was undoubtedly more fanatical and high.

But something illusory beyond logical calculations has been telling him that something is wrong. The variable waste code representing this useless emotion is lingering in his reactor like a ghost, forcing him to allocate some resources to continuously clear them out.

"So he and his crimes are not just legends, right?" Helian asked. "Weaponsmith."

"You should go to the fighting cage less often when the brothers from the Fifth Company come to give lectures, Helian An," Mildor said, but it was not a reproach, but a slight helplessness.

"Although telling his story will be punished, there are always brothers of the Truthbringer willing to tell it quietly. - Yes, the weaponsmith, Hong Sorabar, the man who is said to be the first to break one of the greatest taboos of the Astartes."

Even in this chamber devoid of any living souls except themselves, Myrdor lowered his voice, "The man who first set out to plunder the most precious and sacred genetic legacy the Emperor had bestowed upon Dorn and left us, and used it to create for himself the first of the new Iron Warriors."

Varied……?
There was a bright light in Sigismund's eyepiece, and the mechanical body was locked in place due to an overload warning.

(End of this chapter)