Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 770 Vulcan Arrives (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
Despite the fact that Vulcan's interstellar communications indicated they would arrive in Nostrama in three Terra days.

However, they actually arrived seven Terra days later.

Just as Lothie had predicted, the dark gods in the warp would not stand idly by and watch humanity develop so smoothly.

They will surely begin to make their presence felt like a persistent plaster at such a crucial moment.

Perhaps the four Chaos Gods cannot interfere with the real universe at will, but the warp will always be their domain, and creating a storm would be incredibly easy for them.

As Loshi eagerly awaited, the Salamander support fleet finally jumped out from Mandeville point.

Leading the Salamander fleet was a Thundercloud-class planetary warship named the Undying Ember.

However, this warship has clearly undergone customized modifications, and it looks much larger and more robust than the standard model.

This massive fleet likely consists of around four hundred ships.

The Salamander Legion doesn't have a large number of warships; this time, they've brought most of their resources to provide support.

"Quickly, send them a signal. We have prepared a supply point and repair platform in the Nostramo system to welcome them."

"Loxi said somewhat eagerly."

A few seconds later, an unusually deep, resonant voice, as powerful as a mountain, came through the communicator.

"This is Vulcan. I have led my fleet here in response to the Empire's call."

After being identified, the Salamander Legion's fleet began to proactively sail into the repair platform mentioned by Roshi.

Even just by looking at their appearance, it's clear that this salamander fleet likely encountered considerable trouble in the warp.

Even the flagship, the Undying Ember, had mottled scars on its thick, iron-gray armor.

Its bow ram and gun turret, as well as the high tower antenna on top, all show signs of damage to varying degrees.

The arrival of Vulcan was incredibly encouraging news.

Lothie immediately invited Vulcan to Nostrama for a gathering, where he prepared a grand welcoming ceremony at the Midnight Lord's fortress monastery.

Vulcan readily agreed; this kind-hearted man from the Primarch almost never refused the kindness of others.

Nostramaur's airspace was cleared to prepare it for the Primarch's arrival.

As the Stormbird carrying the Lord of Fire Dragons slowly descended from the orbit, a flock of Midnight Lords, personally led by Macarion, lined up to greet it.

The Eighth Legion's most elite Black Armor Guards stood immovably on either side of the Consul.

These warriors, all equipped with Star-type Terminator armor and painted in the most traditional blue, black, and red colors, exuded a captivating and ferocious aura.

The lightning bolt patterns and bat-wing helmets further accentuated their flamboyance and extravagance, while the grotesque skulls and terrifying ornaments on their shoulder and breastplates served as a direct and clear warning to the enemy.

Although the Primarch is no longer here, the prestige of the Eighth Legion must not be diminished, and Macalion sincerely welcomes the arrival of Vulcan, the Primarch.

After the eighteen Stormbirds of the Salamanders slowly landed on the helipad, the Lord of Fire Dragons strode confidently toward Loxi.

The moment this tallest and strongest of the Primarchs appeared, he immediately attracted everyone's attention.

Vulcan had skin as black as charcoal, and his eyes shone with a scarlet light, like the lava of Nocturne.

When the Lord of Fire Dragons is in armor, he is nearly five meters tall. When he walks, he gives the illusion that the mountains are moving.

The Flame Guardians of the Salamanders followed closely behind him; these warriors, clad in dark green Terminator armor and with crimson capes draped over their shoulders, kept pace with the Primarch.

"Vulcan!"

"my friend!"

Loshi took the initiative to greet and express his respect and welcome to the Primarch who was the first to arrive to provide support.

The Lord of Fire Dragons bent down slightly, he even had to half-squat down to touch Loxi's hand with his fingers.

"It's such a pleasure to see you again."

Vulcan had a gentle nature that was completely opposite to his fierce appearance. He was like a mammoth, with a huge body, but a herbivore.

The two walked toward the Eighth Legion's fortress monastery, chatting and laughing. More confidential arrangements needed to be explained in detail in the meeting room.

Vulcan looked around in surprise and confusion. In fact, he had seen the situation in Nostramore from the moment he landed in the Stormbird.

All of this seemed completely different from the dark and oppressive place he remembered.

Vulcan once visited Koz's home planet.

He always felt that his taciturn brother, who always seemed mentally unstable, needed more care from his blood relatives.

When he first came to Nostramo to get closer to Coz, he was deeply impressed by the local customs and culture.

As one of the most honest and kind-hearted among the Primarchs, Vulcan's home planet, Nocturne, was home to humans who, despite its extremely harsh natural environment, were also kind, sincere, and exceptionally united and helpful.

He found it hard to understand why Koz would turn his homeworld into such a horrific place: with ridiculously high murder and suicide rates, ranking first among almost all Primarch homeworlds.

However, Koz was tormented by the prophecy, and his deranged and twisted mental state made him ignore Vulcan.

Even after the massacre on the Istvan V, he secretly took Vulcan, who had been rendered unconscious by the nuclear bombardment of the Iron Warriors, to his own ship, the Nightfall.

The mad midnight ghost tortured his brother by any means necessary, trying to kill the immortal being to vent his pain.

"Don't be surprised, Vulcan."

“You’re not the only one who dislikes Nostramore; I’m the same,” Losi said with a shrug.

He handed Vulcan a glass of Macurag wine, a gift from Guilliman, which he often used to entertain distinguished guests.

Although the glass used was already the original size, it still looked a bit small and miniature when it fell into Vulcan's hands.

"After I decided to establish Nostramo as a frontline base, I thoroughly examined the evils here and radically reshaped this planet."

How do you feel about your journey so far?

Vulcan took a small sip with his thick lips, then revealed his gleaming white teeth.

“You did a good job, and I’ve always wanted to do the same, but this is my brother’s home planet, and I have no right to interfere.”

“But you saved Koz, so you have the right to make decisions for him.”

Vulcan looked at Roche intently, as if observing any changes in his friend whom he hadn't seen for a century.

“Guilliman told me a lot about you, and I think words cannot express my respect for you.”

"Compared to your contributions to humanity, what I have done is utterly insignificant."

Vulcan spoke in a very gentle tone, and Rose could even hear his long, drawn-out breaths, which smelled of sulfur.

“The messengers from Ganymede and Mars have brought the space bridge technology to my Nocturne Star, and I have put my most trusted ‘Dragon Guard’ in charge of promoting this great technology.”

"And there's the 'Primitive Space Marine Upgrade Technology,' which I've already had my apothecaries start promoting, hoping it will help my legion recover its strength more quickly."

Hearing Vulcan's description, Roche was immediately moved to tears.

Emperor, finally we have a legion that's somewhat normal.

His messenger to Nostramore intended to deliver the Space Bridge and Primal Forging upgrade technology to the Lord of the Night.

But these paranoid patients insist that this is Terra's test, completely ignoring these new technologies.

If Rosie hadn't come to Nostramamo in person, these bastards would probably have already started a rebellion to protect themselves.

He had to use all his persuasive skills and explain the pros and cons to convince Macalion to accept these new things.

Compared to the fire salamander's attitude, the Midnight Lord was far too difficult to deal with and arrogant.

“I heard you needed help, so I brought most of my legions here.”

"The Salamanders suffered too much damage in that civil war. Almost all the warriors who followed me to Istvan V were wiped out. It has taken me so many years to recover to a size of about 60,000."

Vulcan was clearly responding to Terra's call to come to the front lines of the war to provide support.

But his tone was full of apology, as if he was blaming himself for not bringing enough reinforcements.

"That's enough, my friend. You are the first Primarch to answer my call."

Rose couldn't help but sigh, "It's really comfortable to be around an honest man like Vulcan."

In the entire empire, it's probably impossible to find anyone easier to deal with than the Salamander Legion.

Even the ultra-soldier, known for his approachability, actually has many dogmas and rules.

Their relationship with ordinary people is more like that of protectors and those being protected, maintaining a sense of distance and class distinction between them.

"I know that the Salamander's genetic seed is not very adaptable, and you have high requirements for the quality of your soldiers, which is why the number of your legions has been growing slowly."

"However, none of that matters. As long as the original casting technology is used, the compatibility and adaptability of the new generation of original casting salamanders will be raised several levels."

Rosie explained enthusiastically, while also raising his own question.

“Aren’t you worried that the original casting technology is a bait and a trap thrown out by Guilliman? In Nostrama, the Night Lords all share this concern.”

"They felt that untested technology should never be used so quickly, otherwise it would be extremely irresponsible to the Legion."

Vulcan gently placed the small wine glass on the table, stroked his bald head with his large hand, and spoke slowly.

"Worried? Guilliman is my loyal brother. We are close relatives who went through the Horus Rebellion together. How could he possibly harm me?"

“I absolutely trust Guilliman. I know some of my brothers have a bad impression of him and think he has ulterior motives.”

“But I absolutely do not believe that. In my eyes, every brother is the same, without distinction of closeness or distance.”

"Even if it's Koz who hurt me, I will truly forgive him as long as he turns back and changes his ways."

Vulcan's words made Macalion and the others present feel embarrassed and ashamed.

The son of Coz was already pale-skinned, and this made him even more conspicuous.

Although Nostramore has undergone a complete transformation, the shadows in the hearts of these Midnight Lords who grew up in Nostramore have not yet dissipated.

Even the Primarchic Night Lords like Macalion weren't exactly good people.

Their style of doing things has always been cruel and tyrannical, using any means necessary; they are truly cold-blooded butchers in the night.

But even the Lord of Midnight felt ashamed under the charismatic tolerance emanating from this black giant.

"Of course, I have also given careful consideration to the issue of technical experiments. This time I came to Nostramamo, hoping to ask you, the pioneer, in person."

Vulcan waved his hand, and from the guards behind him stepped a salamander with a pharmacist's tools mounted on a powered backpack.

When he took off his tactical helmet, a familiar face appeared before Roch's eyes.

"Tassa?!"

The person standing before Loshi was none other than Tassa the Salamander, who served as an apothecary in the Broken Legion led by Medusa of the Iron Hand.

Back in Kos, Lothie and Tassa once helped deliver a baby for a mortal woman, but Tassa later chose to return to the Salamander Legion, and the two parted ways.

Tassa was one of the first Astartes Lothie met, while the vast majority of the other Broken Legion warriors had fallen in those tragic wars.

"Lord Rosie, I am relieved to see that you are safe and well."

"You still look as charming as ever."

With Tassa, an old acquaintance of Loshi, joining the party, the atmosphere immediately became lively.

Vulcan also gave up his position so that his offspring and Rosie could have a good talk about what they had been through over the years.

"So, you've already climbed to the position of Chief Pharmacist of the Salamander Legion?"

After hearing Tassa's description, Rosie looked at her quiet old friend in surprise.

“Our original chief pharmacist was unfortunately killed in the battle against the Iron Warriors, so I was appointed to this position in a time of crisis.”

"To be honest, I'm ashamed to say that my abilities are very limited, and I can only do my best to make up for my shortcomings." Tassa remained humble, just like his father, the father of genetics.

The atmosphere at this moment was so peaceful. Strolling and chatting with Tassa made Roxi feel as if he had returned to a time when he had just awakened from a long slumber.

Although he felt lost about the future at that time, he did not feel such immense pressure.

However, peaceful times are always short-lived.

Just as Loshi was about to invite the Salamanders' representatives to a banquet at the Legion Monastery in Nostramo, a piercing alarm sounded across the planet.

Not only Nostrama, but alarms sounded in all orbital systems, space fortresses, and Imperial Navy warships throughout the entire galaxy.

Human scanning methods detected a colossal structure, the size of a planet, that suddenly appeared from the direction of the ghoul constellation.

Nostramo was already very close to the Ghoul Cluster, and as soon as it emerged from the Warp, it rushed towards human territory at near-face-to-face speed.

This sudden situation immediately triggered the highest alert level of the imperial army.

"It seems now is not the time for us to reminisce."

"An unpleasant guest has arrived."

Luo Xi was also helpless; this sudden situation was just too coincidental.

"There's no need to rush; the important matter is more pressing," Tassa reassured him.

The thousands of Imperial warships entrenched in the Nostramo system immediately went into war mode under the command of Admiral Raeder.

The flagship, led by the Emperor's Wrath, turned around and headed towards the massive celestial body that was heading straight for Nostramo.

"What the hell is that?" Admiral Redell's right eye had been mechanically modified.

This electronic eye can transmit battlefield information to the brain in an instant, thereby greatly improving thinking speed.

In the dark universe, a blasphemous metal planet made of metal was seen drifting at high speed through the void.

Its body was also wrapped in ethereal energy brought out from the subspace, which now appeared as a dazzling aurora in the human scanning array.

This metallic planet is divided by the equator, with the southern and northern hemispheres rotating continuously in completely opposite directions.

At its north and south poles, there are two enormous abyssal mouths, each about three thousand kilometers in diameter.

Countless metal tentacles snaked out from the earth's crust, grabbing anything that could move and stuffing it into the giant mouths located at the North and South Poles.

Rather than a metallic celestial body, it is more like an insatiable void devourer.

Through the terrifying view of the abyss's gaping maw, one can vaguely see the surging metallic lava inside, as well as those giant mechanical furnaces in operation.

Those furnaces that never stopped working spewed out waste gas from forging, turning the space they passed through into a sickly pinkish-purple.

"This is... the world forged by Ulanhuda!"

Admiral Raeder quickly found the most suitable option from the warship's AI database.

Legend has it that a predator furnace has been drifting among the ghoul stars.

Its predecessor was a small forged world trapped in the ghoul constellation, which had to use the products of dark blasphemous technology in order to survive.

The Mechanic priests of Ulanhuda transformed their homeworld, enabling it to drive the entire Forge world in constant plunder and even cross the warp to other places in search of prey.

However, the Mechanicus of Mars had already declared that Ulanhuda's creation of the world had betrayed the faith of the God of Machines and become a member of the Dark Mechanicus.

During the Salamas Expedition, the Night Lords, led by Koz, cooperated with Ulanhuda in an attempt to reverse the outcome of the war against the First Legion by relying on the deformed Titans and strange technologies they provided.

"I originally thought the Dark Angels' fleet had destroyed this blasphemous entity, but I didn't expect their vitality to be so tenacious."

Admiral Raeder quickly ordered the fleet to prepare for attack.

No matter how bizarre the world of Ulanhuda may be, it is nothing more than a pathetic sitting duck in the face of these fully equipped Imperial navies.

However, when he was about to order the fleet to open fire and take out the enemy directly beyond visual range, the warship's AI received a series of communication requests from the enemy.

Redel hesitated for a tenth of a second before accepting the request.

A hazy holographic projection appeared on the command bridge of the Imperial Fury.

What appeared before the admiral was a metal structure with a human outline, but which did not look human at all.

The thing barely maintained the projection of a human form, its five-meter-tall metal body covered by a black robe adorned with data ports.

Eight mechanical tentacles extend from the spine, each tip connected to a different type of weapon interface—the third one on the left is even directly grafted with a thermobaric cannon.

What's most suffocating is its lower half: the chassis of the Emperor Venom Blade super-heavy tank has been violently modified into a mobile base, with hundreds of still-bleeding skull servos welded to the edges of the tracks.

Redel did not speak, but waited for the other party to state their purpose.

At the same time, he ordered the main guns of the warship to begin charging up, ready to blast the Ulanhuda Forging World into ashes like thunder at any moment.

"We don't mean any harm."

The metal mountain began to tremble, and the speakers mounted on its body emitted a series of binary language messages.

After being filtered and checked by the warship's AI, this information was translated into High Gothic, which Redell could understand.

If the other party tries to manipulate these communication signals by mixing in some chaotic, corrupted code, it will immediately trigger an alarm and countermeasure from the Black Stone Anti-Psionic Array inside the warship.

"You traitors of the Dark Machine Cult, do you have the right to say you have no malicious intent?"

“Your existence is a blasphemy against Om Messiah and a deviation from the path of truth. There is an irreconcilable difference between us.”

Beside Redell, a sage from the Cult of Mechanics immediately rebuked him.

However, the Dark Mechanic priests in Ulanhuda were like machines, devoid of any emotional fluctuations.

“You are being controlled by your emotions rather than your reason, Father.”

"I think this is a flaw."

The other party's answer immediately made the Sage of Mechanics feel hot all over, and his hormone levels rose sharply.

"That's enough, now is not the time for you to argue."

Redel interrupted, knowing that if he didn't intervene, the two would continue arguing like shrewish women.

The so-called heretics are more abhorrent than aliens; members of the Mechanicus and the Dark Mechanicus fight to the death the moment they meet.

"You have thirty seconds to explain your purpose. My flagship's main gun is warming up. Your time is running out."

The bow of the Imperial Fury is accumulating energy, like a star confined within its weapon systems, poised to unleash a supernova-like attack at any moment.

"We come from the Ghoul Stars and live a peaceful life."

If not for an insurmountable natural disaster, we would never have left that constellation of stars, so full of danger and opportunity.

Ulanhuda's representative continued speaking in binary language, his speech incredibly fast, far exceeding the efficiency of human High Gothic.

"Since you have stationed your troops here, you must know that a scourge has emerged from the Ghoul Stars."

“Those green-skinned orcs have forced and squeezed our living space. Even when we use the warp engine to change our location, they still keep chasing us.”

A detailed analysis report on the Ulanhuda casting world immediately appeared before Raeder's eyes.

The scanning arrays of every warship in the fleet are his eyes, while the main control AI of the Emperor's Wrath processes this information in microseconds and sends it to him.

The Imperial Navy is moving towards a more intelligent and efficient operational direction, and the effects of technological advancements are rapidly being transformed into combat power.

"You want to cooperate?" Redell probed.

"Yes and no."

"According to my calculations, the probability of us getting along peacefully with those self-proclaimed orthodox colleagues is no more than 0.0537%, and cooperation itself is a false concept."

“We can use the intelligence from the Ghoul Cluster as a bargaining chip to get your permission to let Ulanhuda travel to other remote star systems.”

"We are not offending your world, we are just passing through."

"This is a win-win choice."

“If you attack us, you will get nothing.”

The representatives of Ulanhuda were clearly exceptionally rational; they knew that any cooperation was utter nonsense, so all they asked for was to exchange intelligence for a chance to escape.

Even Ulanhuda, who has always been elusive, couldn't handle it and was planning to run away...

It seems that the number of greenskins in Ghoul Stars has reached an exceptionally terrifying level.

“This is not something I can decide; I need to report it.” Redel copied the conversation and sent it to Losi, who was on Nostramore.

At the same moment, Losi also received an urgent report from Redel.

"Want to make a deal with us?"

Luo Xi raised an eyebrow, pondering how credible the other party's promise was.

This seems reasonable; Ulanhuda just wanted a way to survive, so he gave up information from the Ghoul Stars in exchange.

Vulcan stepped forward, knowing that he too needed to make a statement at this time.

"There's no need for a deal anymore. If the entire Ghoul Stars have already fallen into the green tide of the green-skinned orcs, then how did Ulanhuda escape?"

"Even if their mobile forged world has a trump card for escaping, surely it should still have some traces of war, right?"

Vulcan said in a deep voice, "Although he is mild-mannered and dislikes fighting, that does not mean he is inferior to other Primarchs."

Every Primarch is the most outstanding strategist in the galaxy, an invincible battlefield commander, and they are born to be the Emperor's most prized weapons of war.

"You're right, there's no need for negotiation."

Roche was initially hesitant, but after being persuaded by Vulcan, he immediately made up his mind.

"Perhaps our guess is wrong, and Ulanhuda did indeed escape from the encirclement of the green-skinned orcs in such a miraculous way, but we can't gamble on such a probability."

"If there is even the slightest possibility that it is a trap set by the green-skinned orcs, then we must completely eliminate that possibility."

"Launch the attack, Admiral Redell."

Upon receiving the order from Losi, the admiral revealed a cold smile.

"Fire all main guns at once."

Ulanhuda, who were advancing towards Nostramo, suddenly came to a standstill as they detected a high-energy attack response.

A dazzling light, like a supernova explosion, poured out from the main cannon of the Emperor's Wrath.

At the same time, the numerous Void Annihilation-class warships were also unleashing their destructive power without restraint.

Thousands upon thousands of sub-light-speed macro cannons were aimed at the abyssal maw of Ulanhuda.

Countless light spears and void torpedoes, like deep-sea sharks that have smelled blood, tore at the metal-built celestial body of Ulanhuda.

In the Marauder's Forge, where the Ghoul Stars have roamed for millennia, the Mechanicus heretics, who once escaped the First Legion's pursuit, are now enduring a fatal blow that could destroy them hundreds of times over.

The Dark Mechanicus priest, who was in holographic communication with Redell, suddenly fell into despair.

His modified organs are able to calculate the intensity of the attacks Ulanhuda suffers much faster.

It can be said that even if a planetary celestial body were directly hit, it would explode into dust in the void.

There is absolutely no chance of survival in the Raider's Forge.

"No! No! No!!"

"Why? Why won't you even give us a way to survive!"

"You pedantic fools! You've lost your curiosity and drive for new technologies, yet you're jealous of us pioneers!"

Redel watched silently as the Dark Mechanicus priest went mad; in just a few minutes, he would be reduced to countless discrete atoms.

Ulanhuda's modified outer shell incorporates a large number of relics from the dark age of human technology found by the Dark Mechanicus from the Ghoul Cluster, as well as many blasphemous technologies from aliens.

Those seemingly metallic shells demonstrated remarkable resistance when struck by the macro cannons and light spears.

The armor plates, like the flesh and blood of a living organism, constantly wriggle to reduce the spread of their destructive power.

But in the face of overwhelming firepower, all resistance is futile.

Countless servants and thinkers, created by humans and alien creatures, were reduced to clouds of blood mist in the devastating shockwave.

The extremely high temperature radiation was burning everything; even metal and rock were burning and melting.

“I curse you, Ulanhuda will perish, and your end is not far off.”

"The orcs are coming! Waaaaaaagh! They're here!"

The dark mechanical priest, who had transformed himself into a small metal mountain, left behind a final curse before being destroyed and killed by the explosion.

"A curse? If curses were truly effective, what would be the point of giant ships and cannons?"

"Too many people have cursed me, and they are all dead."

Redel scoffed, saying that only the weak would resort to curses to defeat their opponents.

The outer shell of Ulanhuda is cracking and evaporating layer by layer. Its incredibly complex internal structure has undergone thousands of years of evolution, but it is also destined to be destroyed.

The gaping maws at the north and south poles of the Raider Furnace shattered in the annihilation explosion of antimatter, the tragic roar like the final lament of a deep-sea whale before its demise.

The ever-rotating gears finally came to a stop, and the various internal reactors went out of control, amplifying and intensifying the explosion.

The fleet showed no sign of stopping the bombing; after all, ammunition wasn't a precious commodity for the human empire at this point.

Meanwhile, Roche and Vulcan witnessed this magnificent bombing from the tower of the Midnight Court.

“It seems there’s nothing wrong?” Vulcan’s scarlet eyes reflected the exploding flames in the universe, slightly puzzled.

"Let the bullets fly for a while," Rose suddenly said solemnly, as if struck by a sudden realization.

Ulanhuda was peeled away layer by layer, like a cabbage.

As the explosion reached its true core, an incredibly bright green light suddenly suppressed the bombardment of all the warships' firepower.

Loxi sensed a powerful, almost boiling, special spiritual energy, extremely domineering and savage.

A fierce waaagh energy erupted from the core of Ulanhuda, erecting a protective barrier composed of the power of my thoughts.

"We were right. Ulanhuda is a trap set by the green-skinned orcs."

"If we really choose to let the Predator Forge go, then those green-skinned orcs will continuously teleport from the core of Ulanhuda to the rear of our defenses, and then we will face a situation of being attacked from both sides."

Ulanhuda's last core stubbornly held on, and one after another, green-skinned orc warships emerged from the explosions and flames.

Raeder's fighting spirit surged suddenly; a mere Predator Forge could not satisfy his appetite.

"For the Emperor! Slaughter all these green-skinned barbarians!"

(End of this chapter)