Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 1017 09.1016: 'The Pain of Victory'

Holy Terra, Imperial Palace District, decades later.

The evening clouds burned high above Terra's clouds, and light streamed through a huge arched glass window into a warm and tranquil room.

The candlelight flickered gently on the desk, casting a soft glow on the heavy mahogany furniture.

A young clerk sat upright, and before him, on a writing board resembling an oil painting canvas, commonly found in the monasteries and historical archives of the empire, a thick biography was being written by him stroke by stroke.

He put down his pen, raised his head, and looked at the man in front of him with reverence.

Now, the most powerful and sacred High Lord of the entire human empire sits here, before him, a humble scribe and historian.

His expression was cold and serious, his demeanor resolute, and his physique was so imposing that he resembled an angel from mythology. His image and temperament were strikingly similar to that of the great Primarch of the Ages, Regent Robert Guilliman.

The years did not diminish the uprightness he possessed, a quality stemming from his military career; nor did his supreme political status instill in him any arrogance beyond seriousness.

He was draped in a magnificent military uniform, with even the edges of his sky-blue cloak meticulously sewn with intricate patterns in gold thread.

Beneath the cloak was a complete set of gleaming gold power armor with beautiful lines and a powerful presence.

This is the culmination of Gothic intricate aesthetics and the most advanced technology in human history. It is said that every part of this suit of armor was meticulously crafted by the two greatest technological sages in the entire empire, tailor-made, unique, and priceless.

But in his hand he held a navy bicorn hat that was not so ornate in comparison to his supreme status, and was even a bit old and pilling. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the faded tricolor wreath on the brim, and a trace of distant reminiscence was revealed in his eyes.

"My esteemed sir."

The young clerk asked respectfully and curiously, "In your long and illustrious service, besides the most important Battle of Cadia on your resume, which other battle defending the territory of the Empire do you remember most vividly?"

A smile appeared on the man's lips, but he did not answer immediately.

He gently stroked the scar on his cheek, which had been repaired by cells and left only a faint mark; this had become a habitual action when he was thinking.

The clerk didn't know what kind of rebellious creature could leave such a hideous scar on the face of such a powerful and great man, but he believed he would find out in the future.

"Was it the Third War of Armageddon? Or the Siege of Terra, the bloody battle at Lionsgate that determined the fate of humanity after the Great Rift was created? Or the desperate defense of Baal? Which one, besides the Battle of Kadia, was the most dangerous for your situation at the time?" The clerk mustered his courage and boldly asked.

“They were both dangerous and impressive,” the man finally spoke, but his smile stiffened. “But if I could only choose one…”

He hesitated, then finally said in a solemn voice:

“I would say it was the Battle of Polaberia. That… beast war that nearly took all of our lives.”
-
E-99, the assault ship, bridge, now.

This place has become a hell.

The shattered glass windows mercilessly poured in the coldness and deathly silence of the void, while the broken steel structure twisted and splintered like the ribs of a giant beast.

The bridge was filled with cries of anguish; the screams of survivors, the groans of the dying, and the wails of agony were the only sounds on this dying warship.

Lieutenant Commander Kretschmer stumbled to his feet from a pile of twisted metal wreckage, grabbing onto a broken section of marble railing as he tried to steady himself.

Something soft and warm rolled down his face and landed on his collar.

He raised his trembling hand and cradled it. It was his right eyeball.

In the violent impact, it was forced out of its eye socket by the enormous force, hanging weakly from its collar by only a single optic nerve.

Warm drops of blood fell onto the "Sea Wolf" medal on his chest, a symbol of supreme honor.

He could no longer feel pain. To be precise, due to the severe concussion and nerve shock, he could no longer feel anything. With his blood-stained hand, he tore a piece of cloth from his already tattered shirt, clumsily wrapped it around his head, and covered his empty eye socket.

Then, he staggered back to his command throne and almost fell heavily onto it. His pale, trembling lips were weakly panting, each breath bringing out a puff of white mist.

There was no praise, no cheers, no triumphant ceremony.

Only one Void Sea Wolf, who fought for the God Emperor to the last moment, licked his wounds in the cold silence.

Above him, inside the hull of the Swift Skyhawk, an extremely fierce battle was still raging.

Her overall armed forces have been greatly depleted in previous boarding, counter-boarding, aerial battles, and ground raids.

She was supposed to rest and resupply at Sintila's Starport after arriving at her destination.

But fate did not allow her and her captain a moment's respite, cruelly and mercilessly throwing them into an even crueler crucible, hastily preparing them for a challenge they should never have had to bear.

Horatio kicked a fanatical Severus soldier off his command throne.

Amidst the piercing screams of his fall, he swung his roaring Holy Blood Chainsaw in a backhand motion, cleaving two other Severus Shock Soldiers who were trying to charge forward in half at the waist.

Starting from Abyss Harbor, they fought their way to the Whirlwind Front.

He was almost out of soldiers.

Before the bridge was completely destroyed, the traitorous captain of the "Duke's Pride" let out a final, maniacal laugh amidst the raging flames.

He fired his final death threat at the Swift Skyhawk, sending almost all of the ship's armed forces over via boarding torpedoes and assault boats.

Many assault boats were intercepted by Fasha's interceptors in the cold void and exploded into dazzling fireworks on the spot.

However, quite a few still managed to crash into the already battered and damaged deck of the Swift Eagle.

HMS Hermione and HMS Tricoloro deployed almost all of their available armed forces to support HMS Swifthawk in the battle for control of the flagship.

When the armed sailors, speaking in thick Sintila dialect, stormed onto the bridge of the HMS Swift Eagle, they were stunned by what they saw.

Everywhere there were "barricades" made of piles of corpses.

The tenacious Gothic sailors, with their astonishing perseverance and fearless courage, wiped out a massive number of invaders—so many mutilated corpses that they formed walls of bodies that blocked the entire corridor.

When they finally reached the command bridge, corpses filled the gaps between the labyrinthine array of Thinkers, and each tall control panel had become a bulletproof breastwork made of flesh and blood.

They looked up and saw the towering command throne. On its platform, the bodies of naval security forces and invading rebels lay piled high. Only one man remained standing atop that mountain of corpses.

He held a chainsaw sword far larger than what ordinary people would carry, its already red-painted blade appearing even more crimson under the stain of blood. He was kicking the corpse of a rebel blocking his path off the throne platform.

He was on the deck below the bridge medical room, in the corridor outside.

Sister Diana, her silver armor dripping with fresh blood, is helping another battle sister, also covered in blood.

The sister's leg dangled limply, dark red bloodstains winding across the deformed and cracked surface of her armor, yet she still gripped her bolter tightly in her hand.

They walked back to the infirmary with difficulty.

In the infirmary, Louise is facing another battle of her own:
"Hold on a little longer, ma'am, I can see the baby's head. Wait, he's stuck!"

(End of this chapter)