This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 547 The Wolves: I Don't Want to Do This Anymore

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With the Bonecrushers' offensive, which swept through the Great Vortex to the Amegidodton Sector, being quelled under the leadership of Commissar Arek, the commander-in-chief of the Amegidodton Sector, the war that had ravaged the core regions of the Empire for more than twenty years since the gods began their war was gradually coming to an end.

This massive campaign, which began with the Dawn Plague War and ended with the Battle of Armageddon, actually had a far wider reach than the general public was aware of. However, under the Dawnwings' command, the Empire suffered far fewer losses in this conflict than anticipated.

Relying on the massive scale and layers of defenses accumulated over thirty years under the Centaur Development Plan named by the Dawn Sector, various regions successfully delayed the Dawnwing's retreat from Nurgle's targeted offensive, recalled three Primarchs, and brought back a reorganized army, ultimately turning the tide of the war.

The Death Guard Plague Legion was annihilated, the Greenskin invasion was repelled, and the Chaos traitors who swept through Badab were driven back to the Eye of Terror, only able to eke out a living with the reluctant help of the evil god.

The monuments forged from the wreckage of the Endurance and the Spirit of Vengeance float before the Victory Monument at the Maelstrom and Alteramar, becoming part of the eternal glory of this sector.

The price the empire had to pay was, compared to the past, only slightly uncomfortable for this war machine that had entered a phase of rapid development.

Now, with the Leviathan swarms and Greenskins still fighting in Octarius, and other Tyranid swarm branches routinely harassing the Empire's borders, another round of external threats to the Empire has come to an end.

The war was no longer critical, the navy's patrols stabilized, and the armed guards that had been attacking from all sides gathered together on various planets. Towering cities were rebuilt on the ruins, and countless resources were transformed into supplies, which were then continuously supplied to human society, allowing this giant, who had been thirsty for countless years, to suck up the nutrients that sustained its growth.

No one knows the Primarch's next plan.

The massive naval fleet, which blotted out the sky, transformed into a Charter Fleet resembling a pod of whales in the ocean. Abundant supplies flowed through the starport every moment, their quantity so vast and difficult to count that it was impossible to know where any portion of them would end up.

Those heroes who had shone on countless battlefields seemed to have vanished into thin air. The masses saw the angelic figures walking on the welcoming red carpet more often during inspections of the planetary government than on the battlefields filled with the smoke of gunpowder.

People enjoyed the solace that prosperity offered from the wounds of war, and threw themselves into their lives with great enthusiasm, further contributing to the prosperity of the empire.

Everything seemed to have returned to the ordinariness of thirty years ago.

They like this simple life.

Especially after the war.

Compared to their ancestors who endured hardship in silence and chose to live in the present when faced with despair, those who experienced this era are more hopeful and have more dreams for the future, because, with the evidence of the facts, they believe they can stand up again after the disaster.

They cherish this simple life.

but--

It seems that not everyone thinks this way.

Eye of Fear, Cardia Defense Line, Cardia Blackrock Fortress.

An unnamed tavern.

"what!"

Clang!

A meticulously crafted horn cup was smashed onto the table.

The remaining wine splashed out due to inertia, and the corrosive liquid immediately created a series of cracks and dents on the wooden tabletop.

boom!
Before the liquid could sink deep into the wood, another powerful slap sent the droplets, along with the ash they carried, flying up and landing on the edges of the gnawed cracks, forming blurry little flowers.

"I'm so bored!"

After countless banquets, the wolf warriors let out their mournful howls amidst the crowd.

The wolves around him, arms around each other, drinking and chatting, added a lively atmosphere to the tavern, but the sound carried a hint of boredom. They looked in the direction of the voice.

Flame Howl, the Lord of the Dalian Wolves, Sven Blood Howl.

His face was obscured by intricate blue-green patterns.

These are the honors-filled experiences of his legendary military career.

He was wearing a large coat that was slightly too big for a Primal Astartes, making him look more like an angry bear.

This was because he had used up all the skin in his body, so he skinned a legendary beast during a trial as a record.

"I've had enough!"

Blood Howl stroked his tattoos, pulled at his overcoat which he had added a few strokes here and there over the years, and a stinging sensation kept eroding his heart, so he couldn't help but complain loudly.

His gaze swept over the large group of somewhat listless wolves around him, his eyes filled with hope, as if he intended to garner support.

"."

He was met with only deathly silence.

Another one has gone crazy from holding it in.

The wolves didn't react at all; they just watched you go crazy with a quiet expression, while also showing a hint of empathy in their eyes.

The Space Wolves haven't fought a decent battle in a long time.

It started about twenty years ago, after finally restoring the population of the thirteen Dalian cities to 100,000, that we excitedly responded to the call of the Primarch and came to Kadia to set up camp.

At first, things were alright. The various star sectors were indeed a bit flustered in the face of the sudden attack. At that time, there were constant requests for help. The wolves excitedly led tens of thousands of people over, and at least some of them could get some meat.

The Chaos Warband was also very active. When the Knight Lord led his troops to wipe out Typhons, the Wild Wolves were responsible for forming an encirclement around them.

Now, look at those planets that have been incorporated into the Dawn Sector system all these years of busy work by the Dawnwing.

Look at those star fortresses that are almost linked together in the orbits of planets and satellites, and then look at those star fleets that, apart from lacking subspace engines, are almost the same size as the Imperial Navy fleet.

Chaos warriors would typically be easy prey there; the local astral army, built on superior productivity and higher education, would easily overwhelm these mediocre individuals who even struggled to obtain ammunition.

Furthermore, Cardia is an impregnable fortress. Apart from the demons that spawn on the surface every day, no war guild would be foolish enough to attack Cardia.

Just kidding, the Primarch is dead here, and you're even tougher than him!

Now Abaddon has also crashed and burnt out, and the Chaos Warband is in complete disarray with no one coming anymore.

Apart from the 30,000 wolves active outside, the remaining 100,000 or so space wolves are stationed in the Cardia defense perimeter.

Aside from training, there's not much to do in the Eye of Fear. Occasionally, I'll respond to Lord Ramses's occasional requests and, under his personal organization, conduct operations on certain planets within the Eye of Fear to help him gather resources and knowledge, as well as familiarize myself with the warp environment in preparation for my future journey to find Rus.

However, such breaks are very short, because at other times the Dawnwings forbid the wolves from entering without permission.

At this point, Dawnwing has essentially broken ties with the Chaos Gods. Without their constant protection, areas like the Eye of Fear cannot be entered casually like the Redemption Expedition, and those who enter would be easily killed.

However, Dawnwing rarely has time to spare.

As for the daily chaotic threats erupting on the surface of Kadia.

In the face of 100,000 wolves, even the demons on the planet's surface are counted as human heads.

No planets in need of help, no invading Chaos Warbands, means no war to fight.

No battles to fight means no military achievements, no honors, and nowhere to vent one's energy.

What's the point of them having this Astartes?

They were born to fight, as Astartes!
Are we expecting them to be like Ultramarines, spending all their time in the government service hall dealing with endless documents?
After managing the affairs of a star sector, if there is room for optimization, then plan to manage the affairs of a planet. After managing the affairs of a planetary government, if there is spare time, then take charge of the city government.

After managing the city government, we discovered there was still room for improvement!

Then, the city, the community, the neighborhood, the town, every household, down to the individual—

We need to manage everything!

Ambitious Guilliman!

The men of the Wolf Pack felt their lives were restricted, their honor stolen, and the exhilarating days of fighting were gone forever.

But what else can they do?
Clang~
Inside the tavern, the group of wolves absentmindedly clinked glasses.

Outside the tavern, a group of Wild Wolves crossed the passageway in perfect formation.

Today's military is modernized, with stricter controls and clearer responsibilities.

Want to go alone?
No way.

If you don't understand all the intricacies, you won't even be able to command this fortress beneath your feet.

The wolf lords then thought of the trial that every wolf lord had to undergo since officially connecting with the Wings of Dawn, a trial that the group of space wolves contemptuously called 'Guilliman's Ambition'.

This refers to taking over the operation of Fenris, becoming its nominal ruler, and gaining unanimous praise from Astartes and mortals alike, proving one's ability to govern before officially becoming the Wolf Lord. Because the space wolves of today are no longer just a few large and small dogs like before.

Each Dalian is centered around an Astartes force of tens of thousands, encompassing auxiliary forces from Valhalla and numerous other icy worlds, as well as several Imperial Navy units and various special departments targeting different enemies, forming a massive force of millions of people.

This is only the visible fighting force; the forces behind it are even more unimaginable, and it will be a test of the abilities of every Wolf Lord.

Then I thought of Harald Dead Wolf, who offended Logan and was assigned to be stationed in Fenris, and who still hasn't made it out yet. He can only go out for a bit of fresh air when someone takes over Fenris during the Wolf Lord's promotion ceremony.

The job title sounds nice.

The governor of the Fenris sector is in charge of the military and political power of the Fenris sector, and is basically a local tyrant.

But to the space wolves, it was a huge tragedy.

The wolf lords, including Bloodhowl, couldn't help but shudder when they recalled managing Fenris's life back then.

That's just how it is in this day and age.

Being willful is fine, venting is fine, but you can't involve others.

The fact that the Space Wolves could keep a tavern at Blackrock Fortress only shows that they weren't really driven crazy by the pent-up energy of their wolf cubs.

They drank and emoemoed as they pleased, but not a single person uttered a word in agreement with this illustrious wolf lord.

Before getting to work, none of the wolves had any time to complain; they simply cherished this hard-won moment of indulgence.

Seeing that no one cared about his complaints, Blood Howl was too ashamed to assert his authority as the company commander of Dalian. He could only bend down to pick up the wine glass that had been knocked over by his slap and go to the nearest bar to get a drink.

woohoo~
A somber bugle call sounded.

Blood Howl froze.

The air of melancholy emanating from him grew even stronger.

But the Wolf King is the Wolf King after all. As a leader who needs to manage a city like Dalian with tens of thousands of people, he quickly demonstrated his sense of responsibility.

Put down your wine glass and tidy your clothes.

He should act as a leader to maximize Dalian's potential.

The other wolves also ended their brief rest and prepared to get back to work.

To assist in data processing, improve the operational efficiency of various departments of the army, rely on the halo bestowed upon them by imperial culture to help maintain the stability of internal thought, keep a close eye on the army's ideology at all times, and nip any corruption in the bud.

In addition to necessary departmental diplomacy, military training, various emergency drills, and regular online connections with the original body under the guidance of think tanks to conduct tactical learning that keeps pace with the times and technological developments.

The hardware advantages that Astartes possess mean they must shoulder this responsibility and keep pace with the times.

Damn Guilliman!

Looking at the weekly Legion study materials issued by the think tank, and the "Astartes Codex" which has been updated again after a week, countless space wolves cursed inwardly.

"Fuck Guilliman!"

"I want to see Logan!"

"I can't live like this for even a second longer!"

"Where's Ruth? Where is Ruth?"

The facade of composure crumbled in an instant.

The corridor was filled with the grumbling of the Space Wolves and their obedient figures heading to their respective posts.

The busy staff around them acted without the slightest hesitation, as if this was commonplace.

"Logan led the team well."

Bjorn Brokenclaw, also stationed in Cardia and a living fossil of the Space Wolf, commented as follows.

After thousands of years of selection, Bjorn also reserved the wolf cubs' passionate and unrestrained side for their companions, while leaving their cruel and violent side for their enemies.

But the maverick spirit etched into the genes of wild wolves, forged through countless cruel selections and the trials of life, is an indelible characteristic that will never fade.

Difficult to manage.

They are very difficult to manage.

When problems arise, you can absolutely rely on the wolves to help you solve them.

When there are no problems, the biggest problem is the wolves' boundless energy.

Back then, Bjorn repeatedly told these people to find a propitious place to bury him, but when he woke up, he felt like the sky had fallen the minute he was buried in the Sacred and Dreadnought.

Fortunately, these wolf cubs now have a reliable leader.

Bjorn was very pleased with this.

Logan, who was handling official business nearby, had no words to express his suffering.

Over the years, the legion has developed, its combat effectiveness has increased, the wolf cubs have become more educated, and its influence within the empire has grown.
However, it was clear to the naked eye that he, as the battle group leader, was working very hard.

Even Fenris's star soul has to work.

Back then, after Lord Ramses's careful persuasion, Fenris Star Soul finally agreed to provide formal training for the immigrant population, while also assisting the Wings of Dawn in establishing a local soul storage system to provide as much protection as possible for the souls of the Empire's humans.

Today, the Fenris Star Soul's coverage extends to thirteen icy worlds, including Valhalla, providing real-time protection for over two hundred billion people. Furthermore, it has established a psionic security system independent of the Aspect of the Universe and unique to the Space Wolf Legion.

Among this busy crowd, one figure stood out from the crowd.

Björn Broken Claw.

Not only does he not have to bear these pressures, but due to his overwhelming personal strength, he also frequently accepts commissions from the Primarch to go to various dangerous areas to retrieve important resources and technologies. He can fight on the back of all the Wolves, making him practically the biggest traitor of the Space Wolves.

But what can we do?

Who told Lord Bjorn to have already endured all the suffering he was supposed to have ten thousand years ago?

Logan understands Bjorn, but that doesn't stop him from being jealous.

And Ruth!

Logan was furious at the thought of Ruth enjoying herself in the warp for ten thousand years while they, the wolf cubs, had to work and study hard to welcome Ruth back.

wow~
A thick stack of documents was thrown in front of Logan, interrupting his anger.

Logan looked up, furious, to see which brat dared to treat the alpha wolf like that, so he could banish him to Fenris later. But all he saw was a blurry figure and a door that was beginning to close.

"Hey."

Logan sighed.

The Chaos Warband collapsed, and the Chaos Primarch died.

There was no fight, and no clues about Ruth.

Dawn Wings' strategic focus has also begun to shift towards the cyber lane, and the future is expected to be calm and peaceful, with no battles to be seen.

When will this kind of life end?
Thinking of this, Logan, completely oblivious to Bjorn's silent smile, sighed again.

"Hey~"
-

"Hey."

The Netway, a region undetectable to anyone, is the location of the Black Library.

The Wizard of a Thousand Sons, the Chosen One of Tzeentch, the creator of the Scarlet Warriors, and the first KD in the Great Crusade of Astartes, Azek Ahriman gripped his staff tightly.

He looked at the empty library in front of him and couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey~"

(End of this chapter)