The Bizarre Adventure of the Warhammer Guard

In the command room of the Power Grip, Guilliman's gaze was fixed on the battlefield star map and countless scrolling tactical reports.

Suddenly a beam of light appeared, tearing through the veil of reality, and then vanished. Immediately afterwards, a tall, golden figure stood there.

"Elpis," Guilliman looked the newcomer up and down, waving to the tense Primarch Guard members beside him to lower their guard, "I feel you've grown taller than before."

Elpis looked at the Primarch, a majestic giant clad in the famous Armor of Reason, with the Hand of Domination gauntlet on his left hand, from which hung a massive, specially made bolter, and the Emperor's Sword at his waist.

"Number Three is right there," Elpis glanced at the exhausted Guilliman, not answering the Primarch's question, "Would you be interested in meeting your brother?"

That's exactly what I was thinking.

Guilliman was a rational man. Compared to the other Primarchs, he was a seasoned politician, always able to say things that appealed to everyone in any situation.

But at this moment, his eyes seemed to burn with the flames of revenge, and he completely abandoned his rational war thinking—to sacrifice a large number of secondary ships and personnel to minimize the damage that the flagship might suffer, so as to break through and retreat.

Guilliman agreed to Elpis's proposal, or rather, Guilliman was prepared to abandon his orthodox tactics in hopes of catching Forgrim off guard.

Just as the two were discussing the battle plan, the Emperor's Pride began to accelerate and rush up, closely following the side of the Power Grip. The distance between the two giant warships was less than thirty kilometers—which is hardly a distance in space warfare; it was practically close-quarters combat.

The two ships collided, and countless cannonballs and energy beams rained down at close range, bombarding the void shields of both sides. Due to the recent impact, the Emperor's Pride remained on its side, allowing the port-side cannons to achieve the optimal firing angle.

At this moment, in order to implement the Guilliman Plan, the Power Grip intensified its barrage fire, and the Void Shield covering the flank spire of the Emperor's Pride was finally shattered.

The flagship's outer shell, adorned with countless ornate decorations, was directly hit and exploded, exposing the black metallic armor underneath.

A gap has appeared, which is exactly what Guilliman planned. He decided to lead his elite sons directly into the interior of the Imperial Pride to conduct a boarding operation.

Some independent teleportation units will be dispersed and teleported to different locations on the Imperial Pride. Multiple squads composed of elites from different chapters will be dispersed and teleported, with their targets being the engine room, command deck, navigation room, ammunition depot, secondary command deck, and main gun control center.

If half of the attack squads succeed, they can severely damage the Imperial Pride from within. Then they can immediately retreat, break out, and withdraw with their fleet from the Thesala system.

Guilliman's primary task was to find Forgrim himself, force him into a duel, and delay his fallen brother as much as possible to buy time for his offspring. Although he had a highly skilled Guardsman by his side, Guilliman did not believe that he and a single Guardsman could kill the fallen traitor on their own.

"But not today." The thought flashed through Guilliman's mind. "I may die or disappear like my other brothers, but not at the hands of Fugrim."

On the deck of the Power Grip, one hundred elite Ultramarines stood ready atop the teleportation module. Fifty of them were veteran Terminators from the First Company, while the other fifty were elite warriors from the Second Company, clad in standard power armor.

"The Void Shield of the Emperor's Pride has been breached. Prepare for a surprise attack." A hurried voice came from the communication generator in the ship's cabin where the assault unit was located and the communicator on the assault team's armor.

Two giants strode through the archway, one after the other; they were Guilliman and Elpis, who were preparing to be teleported.

"First Company Commander Andros! Second Company Commander Hill! Are your companies ready?" Guilliman shouted.

"Lord Guilliman! The veterans are ready to obey your orders." Andros clenched his fist and slashed across his chest, his voice coming from the loudspeaker on his helmet, his body completely encased in the thick Terminator armor.

"We are ready, Primarch!" Aeneid Hill, without a helmet, greeted the Primarch in the manner of an Ultramariner, picking up an assault shield from several servants.

"Alright! We'll set off immediately," Guilliman said firmly. "The traitors will have nowhere to escape this time. We will inflict heavy losses on them. We will not fail; we will win! Take your positions immediately and prepare for a large-scale teleportation."

"Sir," Andros said cautiously, "the enemy outnumbers us far. I'm worried our plans might go wrong. Company Commander Hill and I both agree that you should stay here and we'll hold off the enemy so the Grip of Power can retreat as quickly as possible. We can't..."

"I will not run away, for I have already shed too much blood." Guilliman interrupted Andros, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "I must face my brother and hold him back; this is the only way for us to escape this trap."

The two company commanders exchanged a glance, bowed their heads, and reached a consensus with their original counterparts.

Guilliman reached for his helmet at his waist, took it in his hand, and stood on the teleportation platform. Elpis followed closely behind, silently guarding Guilliman. Then, Guilliman turned to his children and began his speech.

"Now, warriors of Altera, let my brothers see the consequences of rebelling against Terra and the Empire!"

"Fight for Macurag!" his sons roared, their voices converging and shaking the entire cabin.

Guilliman's Primarch Guard followed him onto the teleportation platform, surrounding him and Elpis. These elite warriors, handpicked by Guilliman, raised their shields and power axes to form a shield wall, ready to teleport directly to the most dangerous part of the battle.

Elpis adjusted his mindset, unsure if he could save the dying commander of the Thirteenth Legion. But he had to try; if Guilliman could escape his fate, the Empire would prosper even more.

"Ready! War is about to begin!" Guilliman shouted.

At his command, the machines on the deck were activated and began to hum. A massive beam of energy swirled around the teleportation device, tearing at the boundary between reality and the warp.

Suddenly, a loud bang rang out, and the entire teleportation platform flashed white light, enveloping the valiant warriors. Nothing seemed amiss; the signal lights changed from red to blue.

"Transmission successful, transmission successful." The built-in speaker of the transmission device emitted a deep mechanical voice.

The light disappeared, and the entire teleportation platform was empty. Meanwhile, the technicians and technical priests continued to work, preparing for any emergency retraction teleportation commands that might arise at any moment.

A Guardian, a Primarch, and a host of Astartes boarded the Imperial Pride.