This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 150 Everyone is done (settled, please give me some monthly tickets, woo woo woo)

"I'm afraid post-war reconstruction will be very troublesome. I don't know if the Black Templars will find the time to rebuild it."

Aglaia stood beside a Stormbird, the data pad in his hand flickering, his fingertips sliding quickly as he recorded the mission report.

Occasionally, her eyes swept around, where the stormtroopers with the insignia of the Inquisition were standing solemnly by.

The number of people is small, and the symbolic significance is far greater than the actual effect.

A breeze blew by, lifting the cloak from her shoulders and revealing the empty holster at her waist.

Usually, Inquisitors like to bring some Astartes, Battle Sisters or Stormtroopers with them to show their connections and authority, and to deter those who try to challenge the existence of the Inquisition.

But now, the situation is no longer the same.

More troops under the Inquisition have been sent to the front lines. Although the combat effectiveness of the Stormtroopers is remarkable, instead of making meaningless combat deterrence, it is better to let them go to the front lines to gain some military merits and get some equipment.

As for the so-called authority of the Tribunal—

Aglaia raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a confident smile.

That thing had long been thrown away tens of thousands of miles away.

Are you kidding? The expedition fleet now has a minimum of 20,000 Astartes, and no one knows how many are hidden. During the two years along the way, all the loyal academies and children of military nobles on various planets will be plundered, and no one knows how many new recruits there will be.

Who is intimidating whom?
"Question: the origin of the Great General Cannon, a relic of this operation."

The judge's voice was cold and abrupt.

Luo He, who was trying to pretend to be invisible, narrowed his eyes slightly, a barely perceptible cold light flashed in his eyes, and his fingers unconsciously stroked the hilt of the sword at his waist.

"The remains of the planet were excavated."

Arthur's voice came, accompanied by the roar of artillery fire.

He was following Romulus's orders and continuously bombarding the designated area, his tone calm, as if he was stating an ordinary fact.

"Ah."

Aglaia nodded calmly and recorded the information verbatim in the mission report.

The movements were smooth and natural, as if everything was as it should be.

This surprised Luo He, who was originally planning to "be loyal" to this judge.

He tilted his head slightly, a hint of doubt and confusion flashing in his eyes.

No, you really wrote it exactly as it is?

"Question: After this operation, what will happen to this forbidden weapon?"

"This forbidden weapon is severely damaged, and the machine spirit has been determined by the Great Sage to be on the verge of death. After completing its final firing duties, the expeditionary fleet will smelt and reforge it as an immortal monument for the people of this planet to remember."

On the operating table that was kept clean and bright by the Iron Warriors, Arthur fluently gave the firing order.

The machine spirit roared and cheered, and another round of death-piercing shock waves was sent into the fortress.

"Ah."

The Inquisitor noted it again.

Good guy.

One really dares to speak, the other really dares to write.

Although the expeditionary fleet's disregard for the Codex Astartes has become apparent, and various ancient war machines and equipment have begun to be used endlessly, this does not mean that this matter does not need supervision.

Both used tactics and weapons that were not in accordance with the Codex, the former being done covertly while the latter was reviewed by the Inquisitors, ultimately allowing the High Lords of Terra to relax a lot.

In essence, this is not a rebellion against the empire. All forces have exercised restraint in this matter and are only cautiously testing each other on an invisible border.

Terra just hopes that the expeditionary fleet will not spread rumors that are unfavorable to Terra. As long as it can look good and the matter is finally resolved smoothly, as long as these people don't come to the Solar Star Region in the future, the High Lords will not say anything.

Ancient warriors sought to establish authority through expeditions and to figure out how to survive in this era.

Each chapter hopes to learn from the experience of the ancient elders.

Among them, the chapters that had long been disgusted with the restrictions of the Holy Code were also taking this opportunity to break through the restrictions of the Holy Code, absorbing the technology and gene seeds bestowed by the elders. They even tasted the sweetness of mechanized joint advancement and asked for production lines and learned to form mortal auxiliary armies.

The Zhongsi Academies in various imperial worlds along the way were almost completely drained by the expeditionary fleet.

The opportunity to transform into an Astartes and the honor of sweeping across half of the galaxy attracted these loyal descendants who were already prepared to sacrifice for the empire.

For such an opportunity, countless people even gave up the chance to become tax collectors and political commissars of the Ministry of Justice and participated as a Storm Loyalist.

And she was able to report all of this truthfully.

The expeditionary fleet was only quietly expanding its own strength under the banner of supporting Macragge, and in the meantime, it also left some food for the various forces of the empire behind it.

In any case, whether it was the Forging General, the representative of the Rogue Merchant Dynasty, or the Pope of the State Religion, they all gave considerable affirmation to the results of this expedition.

This also makes an Inquisitor's job extremely easy.

Aglaia expressed her gratitude to the adults for their understanding, so she could pretend not to see certain things. She believed that even if other people came, they would not be able to do anything about it. If they really tried to help, the chances of getting lost would be even greater.

The high lords have praised her countless times for her ability to deliver news on time and with guaranteed quality and quantity.

The Grand Master of the Assassin's Court also privately thanked her for stepping forward to preserve the precious power of the Empire, and said that if there were any difficult enemies of the Emperor in the future, she could contact him directly.

Ever since he dealt with the report from the great sage Napopierde and placed his head in front of the Golden Throne and kept flashing for a while, Aglaia felt that his career as an inquisitor was steadily improving.

It was the internal achievements of the Tracing Origin Order. A large group of ancient warriors were allowed to be interviewed by her, and she was the only one who had the first-hand information.

If she continues like this, she can retire gracefully in another ten or twenty years.

"My lord, I'm leaving now."

Aglaia thought optimistically, packed up the report, and then bowed to Arthur and said goodbye.

"Ah."

Arthur nodded slightly, as if he didn't care whether the Inquisitor stayed or left.

She immediately turned around and boarded the Stormbird.

Next, Aglaia will go to the front line to record the war process of various forces and monitor whether there are any possible signs of Chaos corruption.

She sat in the cabin, tilted her head slightly, and looked outside through the thick bulletproof glass window. The Stormbird's engine made a low roar, as if a giant beast was roaring.

Although this type of ancient vehicle is slightly inferior to contemporary Imperial aircraft in terms of surface strike capability, the void shield it is equipped with brings an irreplaceable sense of security.

Within her sight, just below her, the fanatical nuns of the Order of the Bloody Rose were gathering.

Their number was unusually large, reaching three thousand, almost the size of a small Astra Militarum infantry regiment. The sisters' figures were particularly eye-catching in the sunlight, their armor inlaid with rose emblems, their hands tightly grasping weapons, their expressions solemn and fanatical.

Behind the front lines, the Sisters of the Holy Rose were carrying out post-disaster relief work alongside the Angelic Offspring. Medical supplies were continuously delivered, and the Sisters were moving through the ruins, bringing equal assistance to the victims.

They all have one thing in common – their numbers are extremely exaggerated.

Aglaia tilted his head slightly and glanced across the cabin.

Her newly recruited lieutenant stood stiffly to the side, his gaze fixed on the rusted lock on a stormtrooper's buckle, as if it were a work of art worth studying.

The corners of Aglaia's mouth rose slightly, revealing a meaningful smile.

Well, she did it, and so did those Anglican nuns.

Everybody did it.

She has received many red envelopes from the Grand Sage. Recently, the Grand Sage even hinted to her whether she needs the support of a Space Marine Chapter. It is possible that he wants to rely on the connections of the Inquisition to come up with something.

Of course Aglaia agreed.

The people were there right away, and the problems were solved later. She knew what was more important and what was less important.

As for the difficulty of solving it——

Look at my Mechanicus escort fleet, the Primaris Space Marine Chapter fully armed to Codex standards, ten thousand Stormborn, and several heavy armored units. Repeat that?
The Order of Tracing Origins can give you the opportunity to reorganize your language.

Alas, I don’t know which lucky person will inherit my legacy in the future.

The judge's delighted imagination.
-
"The shelling has stopped."

Romulus' voice came over the personal comms.

Arthur didn't hesitate at all, and quickly slid his fingers across the control panel, adjusting the system to pre-launch mode.

With the Machine Spirit in great joy, the Tiamat Grand Admiral Cannon fired a total of twenty-six times, and combined with the concussion missiles that were injected into it, the main structure of the fortress had collapsed in large sections.

Smoke and dust filled the air, and debris was scattered everywhere.

The rain carried a burnt smell, mixed with the pungent scent of molten metal.

"What about Titan?"

Ramses felt a little unsatisfied. He looked through the tactical goggles at the huge figure standing in the ruins from afar. The outline of the Titan was looming in the smoke, like a sleeping giant beast.

This general cannon can kill Titans one by one.

"Send Deathwing."

Arthur's voice was calm, as if he had planned everything in advance.

Titans, especially those of the Chaos-free faction like the Iron Warriors, are as valuable for recycling to the Imperium as their own warships.

Just purify a wave of machine souls and rearrange a team of crews, and they can be put back into use without even having to be melted down and reshaped.

There are also several Deathwing members among the Fallen Angels. Ramses has gradually recruited some reliable Dark Angels, the Thunderforged, to lead the charge, barely managing to form a viable anti-Titan force. "I do find it strange, but back then, the Deathwing generally fielded Iron Cavalry, not Hades, right? How could they employ such a miraculous anti-Titan tactic as teleporting and boarding Titans?"

Ramses asked meaningfully, with a hint of teasing in his tone.

His eyes swept over a Pentacles think tank who was accompanying the team. The latter's face was ashen, and his fingers were tightly gripping the hilt of the power sword as if in stress, and his knuckles turned white from the force.

If Ramses had not privately "educated" him and known how outrageous this Thousand Son was, the think tank would have set his brain on fire long ago.

"Don't ask, the only thing you have to ask is the superb skills."

Romulus' voice came from the communicator, with a hint of helpless smile in his tone.

"And, no Warp sorcery involved."

Arthur responded, then swung the power sword in his hand. The blade drew a silver arc in the air, and disappeared from the spot with Ramses, without leaving behind a trace of energy fluctuation.

The subsequent finishing work on the General Cannon can be completely handed over to Roch. The fallen angels will handle everything perfectly as described in the report without leaving any loopholes.

The Steel Wings that were left behind looked at each other and exchanged complicated looks.

They discovered that the relationship between the four bosses of Dawn Wing was indeed unusual.

They can actually bring up such sensitive issues at any time and joke about them as if they don't care at all.

The Steel Wings withdrew their gaze and began to notify their colleagues to come over to finish the work, while at the same time they couldn't help but doubt themselves.

Are they too sensitive?
[Warning, the main structure of the fortress has been destroyed, the central defense ring has been damaged, and it no longer has defensive effectiveness.]

The cold mechanical sound echoed in the command room, and the shrill alarm accompanied by the flashing red light filled the entire space with a tense atmosphere.

[Warning, abnormal vital signs detected. Preliminary assessment: Imperial Fists. Outer defense team has begun encounter combat. Casualty ratio: 1 to 88. Requesting new orders.]

"New orders? New orders! They've already broken into the fortress, and they're still following defensive orders! Where's their mobile combat training? Can't they fight without orders?"

Idris's voice exploded like thunder, and he slammed his fist down on the console, causing the screen to shake slightly.

His eyes kept glancing at the Mountain Guards on the surveillance screen. Although they were wearing the livery of the sub-regiment, their familiar tactical movements and fighting style allowed him to recognize their identities at a glance.

"It's clear that you don't allow any troops to act on their own."

The surrounding commanders lowered their heads, silently complaining in their hearts, but no one dared to question it out loud. In the Iron Warriors' system, questioning itself was a mistake. Even if the result was wrong, orders must be strictly followed.

"Send out the Mortal Guards. Ascertain the enemy's position and gather the defenses. We need to re-formulate our battle plan."

Idris quickly gave orders, his voice tinged with anxiety, his fingers swiping across the tactical map, searching for a chance to strike back.

His staff responded quickly, and a series of confirmation sounds came from the communicator.

"Where's the Titan Legion?"

Idris suddenly looked up and swept his eyes over everyone like a knife.

"The Legion was silent, but there was no large-scale casualty."

An aide responded quickly, with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"?"

Idris's brain froze for a moment, and his brow furrowed as if he was trying to digest this information.

Difficulty in coping with unexpected situations is a common problem among Iron Warriors. After all, steel does not allow for unnecessary thinking - this creed has long been deeply engraved in their genes by Perturabo.

Even though Idris had been commanding troops for many years, he subconsciously felt at a loss when all his plans were destroyed by the sudden appearance of the general.

"What about the enemy offensive?"

Idris simply gave up thinking about the question and asked instead.

"They are advancing along the path carved out by the Grand General Cannon, relying on heavy firepower to destroy various hidden routes and reduce the maneuvering space of the defending troops."

There was a hint of helplessness in the staff's voice.

"Damn, how did they know the route?"

Idris cursed under his breath and clenched his fists again, his knuckles turning white from the force. He stared at the tactical map, trying to find a flaw in it, but the situation before him was a mess, leaving him with no idea where to start.

The command room was silent, with only the sound of alarms and the noise of communicators echoing in the air, as if urging Idris to hurry up.

"Let me think."

Idris murmured softly, his brows furrowed, his thoughts rapidly surging in his mind, like a sharp dagger, cutting through past memories, looking for fragments that could break the deadlock.

He is different from other Iron Warriors, he knows how to reflect and learn lessons from his failures.

Countless scenes of battlefields flashed through his mind like a silent storm. In the end, his memory froze on the Battle of Shaden Fortress ten thousand years ago.

That time, he was on the attacking side, leading a legion of Iron Warriors, rushing into the fortress that was defeated by the Titan Legion.

However, in the intricate routes deep underground, he was completely defeated by Dantioch.

He lost his limbs and also lost the favor of his primarch.

"Dantioch."

The name was like a sharp thorn, piercing his mind fiercely, and Idris's teeth chattered.

During the Legion's early days in the Warp, Perturabo engaged in rare communion with the Trident and the Warsmiths.

But those words, "If only Dantioch were here," "Dantioch would never be like you," "Dantioch," were like sharp knives, mercilessly stabbing his heart and making him feel extremely humiliated and angry.

"grown ups!"

A hurried call brought him back to reality from his memories.

Idris raised his head, his eyes as cold as ice as he glanced at the think tank.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me that you losers have been breached into the inner defense circle!"

The think tank lowered his head, sighed, and said with dry helplessness in his tone: "Yes, sir."

"The Sons of Dorne are conducting a targeted cleanup of the outer defense zone, leveraging their superior numbers to launch feints and pull the defenses. Scattered assault troops are penetrating the defenses to collect battlefield data. Multiple units have already penetrated the B23 area defenses using heavy firepower vehicles."

"How come it's so fast?"

Idris slammed his fist on the control desk, the sound of metal collision echoed in the empty control room, and his voice was filled with disbelief and anger, as if he wanted to eat the think tank in front of him alive.

The think tank suppressed his anger and continued:
"They precisely calculated the maximum difference between artillery fire destroying the wall and accidentally injuring friendly forces. The assault troops arrived almost at the moment the bunker completely collapsed."

Idris' pupils shrank slightly, and a familiar sense of déjà vu suddenly flashed through his mind.

His thoughts froze again, and then he suddenly realized—

This is clearly his own tactic.

When he was experimenting with the Grand Admiral Cannon, he conducted personal experiments on the Emperor's Children, hoping to obtain the tactics rewarded by the Primarch!
"They operate my guns and use my tactics against me?"

Idris's gaze fell on the holographic images showing the battle situations in various places. Looking at the torn defense lines, he felt an unprecedented sense of humiliation.

It is common for battlefield experience to be shared with each other, and victory or defeat often depends on who can apply tactics more skillfully.

However, at this moment, Idris could only feel the anger burning in his head, almost swallowing him whole.

Because he was really pierced!
"Frontline command requires new orders."

The staff's voice sounded again, interrupting Idris's impending outburst of anger and pulling him back from the brink of despair with cold reality.

The staff was also very angry, but he couldn't think of what to do. He would rely on the fortress to carry out superb defensive operations, and he could also carry out excellent offensive operations against the enemy fortress.

But all this is based on the premise that the fortress can still play its role!

waste!

Idris cursed in his heart, not only at his staff, but also at himself.

How come after my environment was disrupted, I don’t even know what I should do?

Idris missed the time when Master Perturabo still commanded them.

At that time, they only needed to follow orders and did not need to face such a complicated situation.

"Abandon the outer areas, close the defense circle, and enter the lower passage."

Idris ordered loudly, a hint of determination in his voice.

He quickly began to pack up his equipment, securing the portable command center to his arm armor while checking the weapon at his waist.

"We will also be transferred together. I will personally command them."

His voice was low and firm, and his eyes gleamed with a cold light. Idris recalled Dantioch's strategy for dealing with him, searching for the details in a bitter mood, and pondering a strategy for response.

Dantioch's numerous countermeasures against him began to be simulated in his mind, then applied, and then transformed into mature tactical strategies.

I will kill you.

Idris kept reciting in his mind, constantly optimizing the details of the tactics.

He believed that he could completely destroy this branch of the Sons of Dorne under the witness of the Primarch.

Then, his eyes fell on the portable command center in his hand, and his brows suddenly frowned.

"What do you mean the lower passes are controlled by the Sons of Dorne?"

With an emotion called disbelief, another question was raised in the constantly shaking command center.

(End of this chapter)