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

Chapter 98 Bitter Ideal

The Primarch's orders were swiftly given, and the bipolar cyclone torpedoes and atmospheric incineration torpedoes stored on board the Macragge's Glory and the Amaterra were released upon the devastated planet.

It was the homeworld of one of the Primarchs, but henceforth there would be no more record of Nuceria in Imperial databases.

It will be completely erased, and only the most deeply confidential files will lie dormant in the archives forever.

After the atmospheric incineration torpedo entered the atmosphere of Nuceria, it quickly ignited the oxygen free radicals in all the gases, triggering a chain combustion reaction, and all oxidizable substances in the atmosphere turned into a sea of ​​fire.

Planetary-scale firestorms can be clearly seen from space, as storms caused by violent atmospheric activity carry flames out of the atmosphere and then fall back to the surface under the pull of the planet's gravity.

Nuceria is burning like a new star.

The bipolar cyclone torpedoes accelerated and penetrated deeply into the planet's core. The energy in the core began to react violently under the induction of the cyclone torpedoes.

It will be blown into several huge pieces by the huge energy contained in its core.

A habitable planet that was originally suitable for human survival can only be completely destroyed after the invasion of demons. This is an extremely heavy price to pay. Any habitable planet in the vast ocean of stars is precious.

Most of them are the products of transformation by human pioneers in the distant past, and natural planets that are completely suitable for humans are extremely rare.

Before leaving the star system, the fleet of the XIII Legion laid a large number of hidden space mines in the planetary system of Nuceria. The dense minefield will destroy any ship that attempts to approach the planet.

Some hidden listening stations have also been scattered throughout the asteroid belt, disguised as natural meteorites, floating aimlessly in space.

They can absorb solar radiation as energy and wake up at regular intervals to report on the situation in Nuceria.

The Ultramarines will keep monitoring this traitor homeworld for quite some time to prevent the remnants of the World Eaters from causing trouble again.

Although the Battle of Nuceria did not kill the two rebel leaders, Guilliman still commended the Ultramarines Legion.

The combined Shadow Crusade of the World Eaters and the Word Bearers had been thwarted, and the losses they had suffered at Amatra had brought the Legion to the brink of disintegration.

They will definitely need a long time to recuperate before they can pose a threat to the Five Hundred Worlds again.

However, as rebels, these two legions no longer have supply support from the imperial world. They can only choose to forcibly rob or capture some worlds for replenishment.

From the moment the rebellion began, time was not on the side of the rebellious primarchs. They had the upper hand, but that did not mean they would always have the advantage.

Guilliman was certain that he would return to the Throneworld before Angron and Lorgar recovered, and bring the Arch-Traitor Horus back to the Emperor's throne to face his judgment.

The victorious Ultramarines fleet did not continue the Warp jump, but chose to return to Macragge in conventional sublight speed.

"We have driven out the rebellion of the Word Bearers and the World Eaters with a bitter but joyful victory."

Guilliman held a glass of rare red wine from Macragge in his hand, while his mortal advisor stood beside him, tasting the fine wine of the Five Hundred Worlds together.

"But we have to admit that Lorgar has achieved part of his strategic goals: the Ruinstorm is still raging, and the Warp Storm that started from Calth shows no sign of abating. The Five Hundred Worlds and the territories of the Empire, and even the interior of the Five Hundred Worlds, are cut off by the storm."

The light of the Terran Astronomican could no longer be seen in the Far Eastern Star Region, and entering the Warp became a suicidal act that relied entirely on luck.

Luo Xi took a sip. He was actually not good at drinking. This had not changed much since he was born at the end of the second millennium, but now he had learned to savor what was in the cup.

Being able to drink a familiar glass of wine ten thousand years later made the most precious time in his memory more vivid.

With the slight intoxication of alcohol, Roche was able to temporarily forget the utterly rotten state of the galaxy. "At least in the past, I didn't have to worry about rebellions breaking out somewhere, or being massacred by lunatics who believed in Chaos cults." Roche raised his glass slightly, and Roboute leaned over to clink his glasses.

The exquisite glass crafts made a crisp clash sound, and the two drank it all in one gulp.

"This is your business, the great Lord of Five Hundred Worlds, the Thirteenth Son of the Emperor." Luo Xi tilted the wine glass slightly, weighed it, and indicated that he had not left a drop.

"Is this a past habit?" Guilliman also learned to tilt the wine glass over. His movements were exactly the same, and even some of Roche's extremely subtle personal habits were imitated.

"But you did not sit idly by, did you? If there was a first prize for this battle, it would definitely be you." Guilliman did not hesitate to praise him.

Luo Xi was a little speechless, but still shook his head and said helplessly: "You know, I am just a little soft-hearted. I really can't ignore so many people being killed in cruel wars. You have to understand the values ​​of an old antique from ancient times."

"Cherishing human life is a beautiful quality inherited by mankind, and we should do everything possible to nurture it." Guilliman is different from most of the Primarchs. Although he is not as kind as Vulkan of the Salamanders, cherishing life is also a virtue of the Lord of Five Hundred Worlds.

The two stood together on the bridge, looking at the dark void through the porthole.

The destructive storm obscured the light of a large number of stars. It not only raged in the warp space, but also demonstrated its power in the real universe.

The fleet now relies on the star map in the Thinker system to locate and move, so as not to lose its way.

Guilliman remained silent, looking down as if thinking about something.

"What are you thinking about? Don't be shy. It's nice to chat casually after the war."

"Thinking too much will only cause you trouble."

Luo Xi saw that the Primarch was troubled by too many thoughts. His thinking ability was too strong, which caused him to be troubled by too many worries.

There is a saying in ancient China that goes "too much wisdom will lead to harm." Roboute Guilliman is exactly the kind of person who is extremely intelligent, but his ideological realm is not mature enough.

His Creator gave him the strongest brain, and fate gave him the best environment to grow up in. However, everything he has experienced so far is not enough to shape a mature soul.

In Luo Xi's view, the Primarch had a very smooth first half of his life, and he still maintained a naive belief similar to that of an infant.

When Roche started talking, Guilliman was no longer silent.

"I'm wondering what the galaxy has become now. Two hundred years ago, my father led my brothers in the Great Crusade and recovered countless human worlds that had been scattered around since the Dark Ages. The dream of human revival was about to be realized before our eyes, but reality is often the cruelest."

"Lorgar, Angron is just one of them. If they are not lying, then I am afraid that half of the brothers have chosen to betray."

"I have seen that a brief age of knowledge and enlightenment has ended, and a new dark age has begun. The gains of the Great Crusade have been burned to ashes."

Although Guilliman's tone did not sound much depressed, Roche could feel the deep sadness.

That was the sadness of seeing his ideals shattered before his eyes. Roboute was a typical idealist. He even imagined how his descendants would transform from war veterans into qualified consuls when the Great Crusade was over.

He left a room vacant in the inner palace of Macragge, and furnished it with a table and chairs large enough to accommodate the Emperor and his brothers.

Compared to a commander, a king, or a great Primarch, he might prefer to find a quiet piece of land among the Five Hundred Worlds, work from sunrise to sunset, and cultivate his own little land.

But now, the sweet dream has turned into bitter wine, and once you drink a glass of it, it will take a long time to let it go.

(End of this chapter)