Warhammer: Beginning with Planetary Governors

Chapter 697 This world has finally gone mad! Emperor, why did you attack the Empire?!
"What a loyal combination! Now we'll see how they perform in actual combat..."

Ron looked at the Cursed Chicken Thief Legion he had created and was very satisfied.

Although some minor errors occurred during the creation process, making it impossible to use human souls, he still managed to complete the creation using the cunning soul.

After all, apart from the cunning clan chief, most of the cunning people were transformed from humans. They were humans whose thoughts and wills were controlled by Tyrion, and they still had remnants of their souls.

They can be used as materials to indirectly shape the cursed warriors, and are easier to control.

These subspace life forms, pieced together using cunning souls, have almost no drawbacks other than slightly lower intelligence and higher energy consumption.

Those cursed chicken thieves cried out "WAWA!" as they charged forward fiercely.

Their heavy bodies shook the metal ground, and their unstoppable momentum pressed down on the cathedral's defenses.

"Oh my God!"

"What heresy!"

"They should be burned to ashes by the holy flames!"

On the other side of the defensive line, the warriors of the Rift Lords' Chapter and the Crusaders had a terrible experience when facing the charge.

Their formation even became chaotic at one point, unsure how to deal with this strange, alien, heretical army.

Their worldview has been shaken, and they haven't even had a chance to process it yet—

Imagine, and I mean imagine, a group of cunning creatures over four meters tall, clad in golden eagle armor, adorned with sacred skulls, and carrying bolters, chainsaws, and Eldar weapons, charging towards us like Greenskins, howling and wailing.

What would you do?
What if their sound generators were playing Imperial hymns and shouting slogans of loyalty?
The Rift Lord warriors and the Crusaders encountered this situation, which involved close combat.

The entire process, from the moment the enemy appeared to the moment they launched their attack, took only a few seconds.

Any normal human in the empire who saw such a monstrous and alien being would have their cerebellum shrink on the spot.

Especially when certain cunning individuals act like living saints or holy angels, flapping their wings and taking flight while emitting holy light.

"Anyone who didn't know better would think we were the heretics."

Those Rift Lord warriors at the forefront of the battle line looked at the thick, four-armed golden corn cob in mid-air and suddenly had this thought in their minds.

"Lock the shield!"

Finally, the Rift Lord's command came: the front-line soldiers carried the Storm Shields and slammed them into the metal ground, then formed a support with their bodies.

They formed one shield wall after another.

Click~
Behind the shield wall, more Rift Lord warriors raised their heavy bolters, the bolts firing like war drums, the ammunition belts clattering into the receivers.

"Today, in this place, we will not retreat a single step!"

A company commander stepped onto the shield wall, raised his lit power sword, and loudly swore an oath.

The soldiers roared in a low, furious voice: "Not a single step back!"

Regardless, the Rift Lords Chapter must protect the cathedral to prevent these aliens from desecrating the sacred ground of the Great Emperor.

Otherwise, their sins would be even more grave.

"The Rift Lords are very good at defense. I wonder if my Cursed Chicken Thief can withstand it?"

Ron observed the battlefield and, after seeing the actions taken by the cathedral, his confidence waned.

His own cursed legion was cobbled together from imitations, unlike the Emperor's, which was carefully selected from the souls of countless powerful warriors.

If the cunning Cursed Legion suffers a defeat in its first battle, it will be a devastating loss, meaning that its power operation system has gone astray.

In this situation, starting over would come at a huge cost.

"Hopefully they won't be too sloppy, and at least they can break through those few barriers..."

Ron pondered, a hint of worry in his eyes, but was immediately drawn to the sound of a violent impact.

In the field of vision, the Rift Lord's company commander in charge of defense was swung away, smashing over a statue in the distance.

Upon seeing this, he immediately smiled.

Steady!

On the front line over Cathedral Square, the soldiers responsible for setting up the shield wall were under immense pressure.

The cursed chicken thief's overweight body created a terrifying momentum, crashing through like a dump truck, seemingly unconcerned about being hurt.

After becoming subspace life forms, they suffered greatly less physical damage and were immune to pain.

With just a few attacks, they breached the Rift Lord's shield wall.

Without pausing, the cursed chicken thieves headed towards the cathedral under heavy fire.

Their target is the archbishop.

As for slaughtering the Rift Lords, the Redemption Chapter, there's not much point in it, and Ron doesn't want to do that.

For the Space Marines of the Rift Lords Chapter, those alien heretics were terrifyingly cunning.

They were no match for the opponent's charge; a single sweep of the opponent's four thick arms could send them flying.

"Died Alien!"

A Rift Lord warrior, carrying a bolter, was firing wildly; he was clearly the leader, a five-meter-tall alien thief.

Even after he had fired all his bullets, he still couldn't break through the opponent's blasphemous heavy armor inlaid with eagles.

Even armor-piercing grenades only caused minor scratches.

The soldier pulled out his last molten metal bomb, ready to charge forward for one last desperate attempt.

However, the cunning alien's agile tail was so precise that it swept away the molten bomb in his hand.

Then, a gigantic maw full of fangs suddenly approached, unleashing a thunderous roar.

The soldier almost lost consciousness from the sudden burst of sound waves, and his body was covered in the sticky fluid that splattered from the other man's mouth. He went limp and knelt on the ground.

"loyalty!"

The leader of the Cursed Chicken Thieves snorted, ignored the kneeling Rift Lord warrior, and continued walking past him, his long tail swaying.

When the soldiers came to their senses, they felt an indescribable shame. They had actually shown fear in the face of the aliens and had tarnished the will of the battle group.

"Let bones serve as monuments, let souls be the flame!"

The Rift Lord warrior drew his monomolecular warblade, intending to continue fighting, but before he could even stand up, he was met with a strong smell of blood.

The skinner!
The despicable space undead aliens, having long coveted the Rift Lord's forces, launched a sneak attack while the Rift Lord was charging forward.

The warrior had no chance to dodge and could only watch helplessly as the blood-red claws pierced towards his head.

Phew——

The crimson claws stopped in place, as did their owner; the living metal creature had been pierced by the cunning biological spikes.

The subsequent attack cleaved the skinner in two, sending him crashing to the ground.

The cunning leader used his tail to scoop up half of the skinner's body, stuffed it into his mouth to chew, and then spat it out because it was too hard.

His small eyes were full of disgust, as if to say that this thing didn't taste good.

Afterwards, the leader of the cursed chicken thieves swept away the skinners blocking their way and led more chicken thieves, rushing towards the cathedral at an even faster speed.

They completely breached the nearly one-kilometer-wide defense line!

"Hiss, the Cursed Chicken Thieves are even stronger than I imagined. The powerful members among them are almost on par with the Imperial Guard, and the leader unit is comparable to the Emperor's Cursed Legion."

Ron was very excited as he tallied up the battle record of his Cursed Legion.

He had successfully created his own subspace force, even if it wasn't as strong as the Imperial Cursed Legion as a whole.

Unlike the chaotic gods' overwhelming numbers, the Emperor commanded an elite force, with each cursed warrior being the cream of the crop.

They must be veterans with at least 10,000 battles under their belt.

His own savior, the Cursed Legion, seemed to be somewhere between the Chaos Gods and the Emperor, achieving a certain balance in both quantity and quality.

A high-ranking elite led a larger group of ordinary cursed chicken thieves.

This also reduces the cost of faith consumption and makes it suitable for more battlefield situations.

"Stop them! Stop them!"

The Rift Lord's company commander roared, trying to organize a new front and rescue as many of his brothers as possible who were trapped in the alien cunning encirclement.

But just as he organized the front lines, he received orders from his regimental commander—

The archbishop issued the order to retreat; all Rift Lord warriors who could return were to withdraw to the cathedral to protect the priests.

Those alien heretics were extremely cunning and unknowingly infiltrated the core war zone of the cathedral.

"Sir, our brothers are still under threat from the aliens, please give me a little more time..."

The Rift Lord, the company commander, was quite helpless and pleaded.

He knew that the cathedral's defenses were strong enough to hold out until he could cover the evacuation of his brothers in the square area.

However, the archbishop was so cowardly that the cunning aliens abandoned the warriors outside before even touching the cathedral's defenses.

That would only make the subsequent defensive battle more difficult.

Anselmore was also in a bad mood and felt deeply exhausted.
"Company Commander, I understand your feelings, but the Archbishop has decided to indiscriminately bomb the area where the cunning aliens are located. If you don't return, it will cause even more casualties!"

The chapter commander knew that the archbishop was panicking and that the plan for indiscriminate bombing was foolish, but he had no way to stop it.

The cathedral was under the control of that being; in fact, if he hadn't persuaded the other side, the bombing would have already begun.

“Those were sacrifices that could not be stopped.” Ansermor’s voice was heavy with sorrow, yet firm: “It was an order; you cannot allow the chapter to shed any more blood!”

"As you wish, my lord."

The Rift Lord company commander was heartbroken. After receiving the order, he remained silent and carried it out without saying another word.

They retreated to the cathedral, leaving more of their brethren in the area that was about to be indiscriminately bombed.

Even warning the other side is not allowed, as that would alert the cunning alien to the impending bombing, leading to an even worse situation.

On the magnificent high platform of the cathedral.

"Our soldiers are already retreating; they will retreat into the cathedral to build a defensive line."

Anselmore turned to face Archbishop Frederick, the great preacher, in his cardinal robes, his whole being radiating resistance and discontent.

But there was nothing he could do but obey orders; any disobedience would be a betrayal of the empire and the emperor's faith.

As a chapter of redemption, the Lords of the Rift cannot bear any more charges of treason.

Sometimes, these Imperial Angels and Space Marines are so lowly in status that they are even used as sacrifices, and they have no choice but to accept it.

Flakeber gazed at the distant battlefield, paying no heed to the warband commander's resistance.

He knew that the other party could not go against their faith, nor could they go against their own will.

The archbishop stared at the alien creature covered in golden armor in the distance, still unsure of what it was.

But such offensive power made him wary and fearful.

Moreover, he knew that the target of those lowly aliens was probably him, and no matter what the cost, he could not let them get close to the cathedral!

Flakeber smiled slightly and gave the order:
"Prepare for the bombing, destroy those lowly aliens, and let them die under the flames of the Emperor's judgment."

And our loyal warriors will return to the throne.

The archbishop knew that delaying the bombing would save more soldiers, but he was unwilling to do so.

He only wanted to quickly eliminate those damned, cunning aliens so he could free himself to slaughter the human heretics of Fanes.

Upon hearing this, Ansermor struggled to suppress his trembling and anger.

He could hear the grinding of mechanical gears, the weapons loaded inside the church starting up.

They will kill the warriors of the Rift Lord, along with those gene-stealing aliens.

Boom boom boom——

The defensive array extending from the cathedral area unleashed a barrage of heavy artillery fire upon the plaza area.

Plaza area.

The Cursed Chicken Thief, the Skinners, and the human troops, seeing the approaching barrage of artillery fire, immediately ceased their fighting.

Many lives, under deadly pressure, subconsciously seek opportunities to survive.

The warriors of the Rift Lord were filled with despair; they had no idea why the Empire was firing at them without any prior notice.

It was a profound humiliation; the Empire and the Third Diocese were questioning their courage and loyalty.

If the Empire needs them to keep the Xenomorphs out of their sights, if it needs them to die, then they will do so.

But now they can only die without honor, buried under the supersonic barrage.

"Hiss~
Those state-sponsored insects were more cowardly and decisive than I imagined; they launched a direct artillery barrage without a second thought.

Ron stared at the burning square, his brow furrowed.

He was worried about the warriors of the Rift Lord, and the Cursed Chicken Thief was difficult to kill with such physical attacks.

That is the power of the Cursed Legion, and also the reason why the Emperor was always able to provide the Empire's armed forces with support on the most dangerous battlefields.

Otherwise, no matter how many troops you have, they won't be enough to sustain the losses.

The bombing from the cathedral was so fierce and unrestrained.

Even if such an attack would result in the destruction of the ship's area, it would not matter. This command flagship was merely one of the properties owned by the great preacher.

The wealth of the state religion is evident to all, and it is not much less than that of the mechanical religion that possesses the ability to forge the world.

Those powerful weapons were enough to kill Space Marines, Skinners, and those weird, cunning aliens within their range.

However, this was not enough. Rows and rows of penitent and redeemer mechs poured out from the bottom of the church, forming an even stronger defense.

To prevent any remaining aliens from impacting the cathedral.

These frenzied creations are in no way inferior to the Rift Lords' battleband in terms of combat power.

As a high-ranking official of the Empire, Flakeber always preferred to keep the most powerful and controllable military force by his side to ensure his safety.

He would not send out these guard forces under any circumstances, even if it meant the deaths of all the Space Marines and Crusaders outside.

"Inferiority, barbarity, and evil can never overcome pure holiness..."

The archbishop looked at the newly constructed defensive line and regained his holy and noble demeanor.

He looked down at the plaza with disdain; the lowly aliens could no longer harm him.

"How can it be……"

However, when Flakeber saw the scene in the square, he turned pale and looked embarrassed.

Within his field of vision, those strange cunning thieves were still alive, and the artillery fire was simply unable to destroy them!

Even more incomprehensible is that these bizarrely cunning individuals actually took the initiative to block the artillery fire, allowing more Imperial soldiers to survive!
Anselmor and the other Space Marines, who had been grieving, couldn't help but feel overjoyed as they watched the scene unfold in the plaza.

Their brother survived!
"For the Emperor!"

Suddenly, the cursed chicken thieves roared in a fit of rage, unleashing even more divine light and fighting power.

They launched a final, high-speed assault on the cathedral.

???

The warriors of Ansemor, the Lords of Rift, looked at the four-armed golden corn cobs charging towards them, their emotions becoming even more confused and complicated. It seemed that those strange, cunning creatures were more loyal.
This world is becoming increasingly perplexing; perhaps it's the work of a mastermind behind a conspiracy?

"Stop those lowly aliens at all costs!"

Flakeber looked terrified. After giving the order, he turned and hurried into the depths of the cathedral.

He planned to withdraw from the command flagship, then completely destroy the ship, before leading the fleet back to the capital of the Third Diocese.

This heretical galaxy is no longer safe; it threatens his precious life, and nothing is more precious than the life of this archbishop.

"Your Majesty the God Emperor..."

For some reason, when Flakeber reached the area of ​​the Imperial Statue, he suddenly stopped.

He looked up at the stone statue, a rare sight for him, with a look of piety on his face.

The archbishop sensed a divine power descending upon him, the mighty power of the emperor.

He witnessed that holiness firsthand hundreds of years ago when he was still a young pastor.

At that time, young Flakeber almost gave his life to guide the Imperial Army, which was covered in black armor and burning with flames.

It was that experience and the emperor's favor that allowed him to develop better in the Third Diocese, eventually becoming the bishop in charge of the diocese.

"Only thanks to the Divine Emperor can all people rely on his protection!"

Flakeber prayed with a broad smile, how fortunate he was that the great God-King had favored him once again.

He knelt down in an extremely exaggerated posture, begging for the protection of the great god-emperor, his buttocks almost sticking up to the sky.

Such devotion and humility.

The archbishop was eager to see the black-armored, flame-burning Holy Army of the Emperor.

Suddenly, holy light shone.

The Great Emperor's cursed legion has arrived, still maintaining its unparalleled advantage.

They silently strode towards the high platform amidst the burning flames.

"I am a born preacher, and even that being assists my will!"

Flakeber was extremely excited and got up to follow the Cursed Legion, no longer having any intention of escaping.

He couldn't run away naked under the gaze of that being; more importantly, he wanted to witness the Holy Army slaughtering those lowly aliens!
No enemy could withstand the attacks of those terrifying warriors!

However, as soon as the archbishop returned to the platform, a barrage of comments erupted.

"No, why!"

Upon witnessing this scene, his legs suddenly went weak—

The Holy Army opened fire on his penitent and redemption mech forces. Why would that being attack the Empire?!
(End of this chapter)