Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 1001, 08:1000: "You, go and wipe out the Imperial Army!"

"Attack! Wipe these traitors off the land of the God-Emperor!!!"

On the cold planet's orbit, Horatio stood before the holographic tactical instrument on the bridge of his flagship, silently observing the small yet intense conflict on the ground.

A Skyraider Valkyrie attack aircraft on a near-air reconnaissance mission projected real-time battlefield images in front of him, forming a flowing, carnage-filled panorama of light and symbols.

His gaze was fixed on the blue figure who was leading the charge and wielding a power sword.

[Is this the man who inherited the name of 'One of the Three Heroes of the Army'?] He pondered to himself, [How can someone so purely mortal possess such a bold and impulsive will?]
The “bold impulse” he refers to is not a derogatory term, but a rare, precious, and extremely dangerous spiritual catalyst.

On the ground, Brigadier General Rana, wearing black leggings, disregarded the officer regulations which stipulated that "officers should stand at the back of the column" and strode forward at the very front of the ranks.

He led by example, using passionate shouts and fearless courage to ignite the fighting spirit of his veteran soldiers to its highest peak.

Crimson laser beams, like deadly raindrops, darted around him, and the scorching air almost set his uniform ablaze.

Boom!

The combat cannons of Leman Rustank roared. A high-explosive shell slammed precisely into the rebel trench; a single shot was enough to obliterate a section of sandbag bunker, along with the traitors hiding behind it, into a shower of flying limbs.

The heavy explosives mounted on the tank were firing at full power. Inside the turret, a carbine cavalryman wearing a polished brass breastplate calmly operated the fierce weapon, suppressing the traitor's firing positions with a series of explosions.

They were also of noble birth, but they had sworn to dedicate everything to the cause of human unity. Therefore, they resolutely chose to pledge allegiance to the military reformers, just so they could personally settle scores with the traitors who had betrayed the empire on the front lines.

"Fire grenades!!"

At Rana's command, the grenadier guards in the rear took their secondary weapons—drum grenade launchers—from their backs.

They knelt on the ground and fired 40mm grenades into the sky. Each round shell traced a beautiful parabola before landing precisely deep in the trench, exploding into a mixture of flesh and dirt.

The grenadiers in the first rank, stepping over the still-warm bodies of their fallen comrades, their eyes burning with hatred, took high-explosive fragmentation grenades from their ammunition racks, pulled out the pins, silently counted to three, and then threw them forcefully into the enemy's position.

Just then, the conservative artillery of Sintira opened fire again in the distance.

Perhaps out of fear of accidentally hitting the equally prestigious Sintira armored cavalry, their artillery fire was more conservative this time, but the targets were still dangerously close to the front lines.

Brigadier General Rana felt the shells whistling overhead with a piercing shriek.

Without pausing, he stepped on the helmet of a caught-off-guard Severus infantryman, using the momentum to leap high into the air and jump into the enemy trench.

Before he had even landed properly, the power sword in his hand had already transformed into a blue lightning bolt, piercing through the chest of a Severus tribune.

Ah, a scream.

He drew his longsword, and the blood evaporated in the disintegrating force field. He grabbed a traitor by the collar and, with a swift motion, slashed at his neck again and again.

He then casually tossed the corpse aside, spun around, and clamped his arm tightly around a centurion named Severus who was holding a short sword and trying to attack from behind.

Click!

With a sudden twist, the immense force dislocated the centurion's arm joint instantly.

With a scream, Rana slammed him to the ground with an over-the-shoulder throw, then raised his military boot and stomped on his face. The anti-slip steel studs on the boot broke his nose, leaving it a bloody mess.

炯！
He didn't even look down at the enemy at his feet. Instead, he raised his laser pistol and pulled the trigger without hesitation, blowing the head off a Severus infantryman who had just raised his gun to aim at him but hadn't had a chance to fire yet.

Immediately afterwards, a large number of grenadiers and regimental engineers wearing leather aprons and wielding giant axes flooded into the trenches like a tide.

Riemann Rustank then rolled directly over the top of the trench, sending down a torrent of sand and gravel that buried the traitors below alive.

These strong, robust veterans, wielding infantry swords or entrenching axes, employed the brutal and savage close-quarters combat techniques most favored by the Greenskins. Leveraging their heavy armor and superior physique, they launched a one-sided massacre within the narrow trenches, hacking Severus's rebel army to pieces, leaving them in disarray and abandoning their armor and weapons. The rebels' morale utterly collapsed.

After withstanding three consecutive assaults, they were already exhausted and demoralized, and could no longer withstand the desperate attack launched by the grenadier guards who were like mad bulls chasing and hacking at people.

They dropped their weapons and ran back in panic.

The Severus on other fronts didn't receive any reinforcements for a long time. Instead, they saw their flanks breached instantly, and the brass-colored Lemanrustank of the Astragalus Army rampaged across their positions, firing indiscriminately.

The retreat quickly turned into an irreversible rout.

"Stop!" The Severus Imperial Guard armored regiment, slowly making its way to the battlefield at a snail's pace of 18 kilometers per hour, bumped into a unit that had collapsed from the front lines. A tribunal in white armor immediately halted the entire convoy.

"Stop! Stop! Go back! You cowards! Come back here!" He leaned halfway out of the chimera's hatch and shouted at the infantrymen running past in panic, his voice hoarse with anger.

But no one listened to his cries, and the retreating torrent was unstoppable.

The tribunal desperately raised his binoculars and watched as the brass-clad Lemanrus broke through the lines, pursuing and shooting the fleeing soldiers. There were also many infantrymen wearing bearskin hats, cutting down the collapsing Severus infantry as easily as chopping melons.

He witnessed a Severus infantryman, whose legs had given way and who had collapsed to the ground, moving backward with his hands while raising his right hand and opening his palm, pleading with an engineer wearing a white leather apron and a bearskin hat.

But the sapper ignored him. He kicked the Severus infantryman in the chest, grabbed the clearing axe from his back, and with a whoosh, chopped it down hard on the fleeing soldier's chest.

He pulled out the blood-stained axe blade and struck again, a second time, a third time, until he had completely ripped open the traitor's chest.

“…Tell General Pompey,” the tribunal lowered his binoculars, his face pale, “that the forward defenses of the storage facility… have collapsed. We must immediately retreat to the main warehouse!”

Inside the underground command center hidden by Severus's army, the air was so heavy it seemed as if it would drip water.

On the ground, the area was perfectly covered by thick sand and dust, with only a few ventilation holes fitted with sand filters and observation posts made of quick-setting clay and ceramic steel protruding from the ground to form a camouflaged sand dune.

Inside the bunker, many Severus officers, dressed in white Roman-style leather skirts and wearing red breastplates, were anxiously and busily relaying increasingly worse battle reports from various fronts.

A young tribune dressed in white armor was reporting the current battlefield situation to a short-haired man wearing gold shoulder pads and a gold breastplate.

“General Pompey!” Another tribune with silver tassels on his shoulders walked quickly over with an urgent report in his hand.

“What is it, Brutus? Things are bad enough at the front. I hope you have some good news,” said Pompey, the commander of Severus’ army, with a furrowed brow.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, General. Our most important airfield has been captured by the High Lord's lackeys. Their airborne troops are speeding across the sand towards our command post."

"Are you sure it's heading to our command post?" Pompeo wasn't completely devastated by the bad news, but his tone became heavier.

"Yes, General! Our shock troops reported that a mysterious airborne force seized a classified document. They found Imperial Navy insignia on the armor of the fallen soldiers! I suspect that the force that captured the airfield and attacked our command post was also Imperial Navy troops!"

"Naval lackeys?" This even more bombshell news finally made General Pompey lose his composure. His face was filled with disbelief. "Impossible! Those stupid High Lords have long since used laws to restrict the functions of the Astronautical Army and the Imperial Navy. They could not possibly have the ability or authority to launch such a large-scale raid on the ground! The Ministry of the Interior will first burn the guy who proposed this plan to death with phosphorescent fire, and then skin the Imperial Navy alive!"

"General, what do we do now?"

“Listen, Brutus,” Pompey suddenly turned to the young tribune who had been there initially, his tone unusually serious, “from now on, you are in command. I must immediately report the emergency that has occurred here to His Majesty Emperor Severus.”

"General, me? Huh?" The young tribunal pointed to his face and asked in astonishment.

“That’s right, young Brutus, you’ve already done exceptionally well. I’ve been watching your progress closely these past few days.” Pompey placed a hand on Brutus’ shoulder, offering an encouraging smile. “Now, I’m going to report to His Majesty Severus and ask him for guidance on the situation at the front. Do you understand? The test will inevitably involve difficulties and obstacles, but if you can pass it, you will achieve a new leap forward!”

"Yes, General! Thank you for your guidance! Justice belongs to Severus!" The young tribunal was so excited that his face turned red.

"Yes, keep it up, do a good job, little Brutus, don't let your father down." Pompey patted the young tribune heavily on the shoulder, then gave a few brief instructions to his staff before leading his purple-robed guards out quickly through a side passage without looking back.

(End of this chapter)