Warhammer: Angron Training Manual

Chapter 514 Midnight is Coming
After the failure of the small-scale battle, the commander of the Hrud Alien Main Fleet ordered the warships to be gathered, no longer paying attention to the White Knight, and went straight for the Human Empire Fleet.

On the command deck of the Resolute Resolve, Angron stood beside Jaghatai like a subordinate, sensing his brother's inner thoughts while observing the strategic image.

He wanted to learn Chagatai's void warfare command skills, but Chagatai did not think from the bottom of his heart that there was any skill involved in large-scale void warfare.

The scale is too big.

Nearly a thousand warships gathered together, and the chain reaction caused by the interaction of their warships' gravity fields can tear a celestial body apart when the fleet passes by a planet.

The enemy's size is 70% of the size of the Human Empire's fleet.

Even with the Primarch's brainpower and heartpower, it would be difficult to give command and ensure the coordination of all the warships at this time. Chagatai's pursuit was to be able to enforce discipline and avoid chaos.

The spectacle of a massive void battle was not dissimilar to the Battle of Krako during the Battle of Ullanor, as the Hrud xenos' temporal weapons were no longer effective against Imperial warships.

Qin Xia and the think tanks who were still looking down at the galaxy could only see densely packed ships shooting beams of various colors at each other, and then black dots-like macro cannons and Hrud live ammunition weapons splashing at each other.

Battleships, one after another, these huge ships that took decades or even hundreds of years to build and consumed countless resources, exploded one after another during the battle. The visual feeling brought by this was like the fireworks set off on the Victory Day of the Nuceria Uprising, one after another, as if they were free.

Behind the flashes of the exploding warships at this moment were the deaths of hundreds of thousands of humans or Hruds.

They, they, have lived inside the battleship since they entered it, multiplying, working and fighting, and this kind of life has lasted for generations, with countless joys and sorrows of individuals, as well as the battleship's past history of humiliation or glory...

All were swallowed up by the explosion, leaving no trace except for the drifting wreckage that turned into garbage in the void.

When the White Scars assault fleet broke through the Hrud fleet's lines and passed between the alien ships, the Hrud fleet's defeat was inevitable.

"Such a space nomadic race would actually cooperate with us in a decisive battle in the void."

On the command deck, Vulkan watched everything on the holographic image, his eyes filled with compassion.

The compassionate gaze of this super being, who was considered by mortals to be equivalent to a demigod, did not fall on the alien, but on the image of his own warship that was flashing and disappearing on the holographic image.

"Nomadic tribes have always been accustomed to avoiding large-scale decisive battles." Angron thought of the desert nomadic tribes that he assigned the former Nuceria Archon to deal with during the Nuceria Uprising War.

"But they obviously have a stronger sense of community." Angron pointed at the Hrud fleet. "I guess those Hrud tribes who would rather go to war than migrate have already started migrating. This fleet is buying time for their people by sacrificing itself."

"Can a garbage tribe at the tribal civilization stage have such a collective consciousness of social concepts?" Perturabo said coldly.

Guilliman crossed his arms over his chest, observing and thinking, "They have a particularly collective consciousness."

"Never mind. I just think they deserve it. They didn't leave when we gave them the chance before, so now they are forced to migrate, aren't they?" Perturabo sneered, looking at the gradually decreasing number of Hrud warships on the holographic image, and their desperate resistance, he felt particularly comfortable in his heart.

Previously, Perturabo had thought that the Hrud might have some secret weapons, and that even several legions combined would have difficulty dealing with them.

But now it seems that it is just a "broken house" that can be kicked down if a flaw is found.

time flies.

The void war phase ended when the last Hrud warship in the holographic image was destroyed on its way to ramming the human warship.

"Do we need to establish a transit base like we did in Gugan before?" Perturabo asked.

“Since you asked, I just don’t want to build it.” Angron turned and waved at Lotara Salin with a smile.

The flagship's captain, Salin, came over immediately, holding a document in one hand and a data pad in the other.

Angron signed his name to the document, recording the electronic signature on the data pad.

He ordered the destruction of the worlds held by the Hrud.

Because habitable planets are too rare in the galaxy, the use of star destroyer weapons is often done with extreme caution, and even the star destroyer orders issued by the Primarch will be reviewed by the agencies under the Imperial Senate.

Salin walked to the corner of the command deck with the documents and data tablet and handed them to the registrar. These documents would be sent to Terra in the future. Even though the Terran Council bureaucrats would throw them aside as soon as they saw the Hrud alien on the file bag, the necessary procedures still had to be followed.

The battleship fired two whirlwind torpedoes.

Destroy the remaining planets in the galaxy.

The tribes and warriors who did not evacuate became the planet's burial objects.

“After a short break, continue to disperse and attack as before.” Angron signaled the mortal officers to shut down the holographic image.

The Primarchs bowed slightly.

"But there is one more thing we need to discuss." Angron looked at Curze meaningfully, then glanced at his brothers, "It's about the internal affairs of the Night Lords Legion."

When Perturabo heard this, he immediately knew what Angron wanted to talk about and what he wanted to do.

The Lord of Iron subconsciously glanced at the camera above his head that was flashing infrared light.

That thing is still recording everything in the command deck.

What was said next, what was decided, would be sent to Terra like the planet-destroying order Angron had just signed, a record of events and explanations for the meaningless digestive walk of bored mortal bureaucrats.

"The discipline of the Night Lords Legion has deteriorated to an unbearable level," said Angron.

"I was just about to ask you about this." Guilliman looked at Curze. "Previously, your Legion fleet was seriously short of sailors. I arranged for some mortals from my fleet to go there. During this war, they tried every means to contact me and accuse your descendants of various atrocities."

"Koz, I need you to give me an explanation."

Hearing this, Koz scratched his ears in confusion.

He didn't even know that the Legion's fleet was seriously undermanned. "Your Highness."

Sevatar and Shen, who came to the command deck with Curze as the Primarch's followers, stepped forward.

"I regret to admit that these allegations are not without basis and cause."

"It is a recognized fact that our Eighth Legion has lost discipline."

Guilliman nodded silently.

“My children and you have frequently come into conflict,” Leman Russ said. “So your words may explain what I wish to ask you.”

"Yes, Your Highness." Sevatar nodded towards Leman Russ.

Vulkan spoke up at this time: "According to my descendants, the various actions of the Night Lords have reached a point where they can no longer tolerate it. When I led the combined forces of the various legions to fight, many of my descendants refused to carry out combat missions together with the Night Lords."

“Warmaster.” Guilliman looked at Angron. “I hope you will render justice to these charges.”

Angron nodded. “I promise.”

As the brothers spoke, Perturabo's eyes kept darting around, watching Angron's reaction.

Seeing Angron's promise, Perturabo quickly spoke up: "Brothers, the Night Lords' mess is Curze's own business, or Sevatar's business. In short, it has nothing to do with us. The Legion's internal problems should be solved internally."

"Their discipline has been corrupted by the rest of our Legion," said Leman Russ.

"Isn't it ultimately a matter of military discipline? That is the Night Lords' own business," Perturabo said to Leman Russ, then looked at Guilliman. "If Curze decides to punish his own Legion for the torture or murder of those mortal sailors, then that will be a matter for the whole thing."

Guilliman glared at Perturabo.

Angron sensed why Perturabo was speaking out of turn at this moment.

Perturabo believes:

The Night Lords are hopelessly rotten.

Besides, this bastard Curze doesn't even want to take care of things and just waits for others to clean up his mess... Giving out orders to purge the legion, leading to fratricide among the Astartes, is not a good thing.

Besides, Angron doesn't need to rush to solve those messes. There is now a position for Astartes in the Imperial Senate, and the necessary information exchange has also taken place. If the Night Lords become bad enough for the Imperial Senate to notice one day, they will be solved.

The Emperor might be too busy with Project Webway to care, but that didn't matter, Malcador would sign the disciplinary order in the Emperor's name, and he would drag the Emperor into being the one who threw the firecrackers into the cesspool.

“These things still need to be resolved.”

After sensing Perturabo's inner thoughts, Angron still insisted on his own opinion.

Perturabo remained silent and stern.

"What do you think is the reason for the serious breakdown of discipline in your legion?" Angron asked Sevatar.

"The Night Lords are rotten, rotten from the very foundation of the manpower, Warmaster." Sevatar said, "Nostramo is a rotten place to begin with. The rotten recruits selected by the rotten recruiters have corrupted the entire legion. Except for a very small number of Terrans, the Nostramo people are generally as vicious and twisted as Jandor."

"And you did nothing about it." Perturabo glanced at Curze. "Like your Primarch."

"My orders are difficult to convey even to those who are not of Terran descent, and I am not the Primarch. I do not have the authority to curb the deterioration of the Legion." Sevatar replied.

Angron was silent for a moment.

The others watched him.

“I need you to authorize me to handle the affairs of your Legion.” Angron looked at Curze. “Your Legion needs to be cleansed.”

"Then what should I do, start killing people or something?" Koz looked indifferent.

“You need to sign the documents,” Angron said.

"Okay." Koz nodded.

Sevatar and Shen knew these procedures best, so they took Coze away from the command deck, wanting to complete the procedures as quickly as possible.

As Koze turned to leave, Perturabo sneered, "Go ahead and be a human stamp, Koze. Just wait for others to solve your problems."

Curze has walked out of the command deck.

"Nostramo. He doesn't even understand a world like this." Perturabo laughed. "If I were him, Nostramo would have been like Olympias, without any mistakes, and would have played his due role for me."

"Nostramo has a more serious problem, their civilians are deeply bound to the gangs." Guilliman said.

"Oh, it's actually a bunch of gangs and criminal families." Perturabo was shocked. "That's much scarier than the ancient iron men, ancient technology slave owners, etc. It's incredible that Curze could survive and grow up on that planet!"

Guilliman snorted and laughed, thinking: I see you, Olympia, have a lot of problems too.

"The Night Lords problem will be solved, right here in this system."

Angron had already figured out what to do.

"For the Night Lords, midnight is approaching."

(End of this chapter)