The Bizarre Adventure of the Warhammer Guard

Amidst billowing dust and shattered mech parts, the drop pod's doors slid open to the sides with a hissing sound.

The first to appear were the Shadowmoon Wolves clad in black armor. Their explosive guns opened fire instantly, precisely targeting the orc boys who were still stunned around them.

Following closely behind was Elpis, who casually swung his spear, each strike taking down a swarm of orcs. His golden armor gleamed in the smoke-filled battlefield.

Panting heavily, Vulcan leaped off the remains of the Gorgon King Kong that he had personally knocked down. He carelessly tore off the twisted and deformed armor from his legs and hurled it at the orcs, the immense force of the throw knocking down several of them.

He shook off the sticky mixture of engine oil and green blood that clung to his warhammer, then looked at the clearly Imperial-style airdrop pod and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

His gaze instantly locked onto the golden figure and the giant silver spear that was being swung around. A hint of surprise and doubt flashed in his eyes.

The Primarch recognized him as one of the Emperor's personal guards and knew who the owner of the silver spear was, but his height was somewhat different from the Primarch's memory of him.

But now is not the time to think about these things. Primarch pulled himself out of his thoughts, and the warhammer in his hand roared like thunder once more, smashing the approaching orcs into a bloody pulp.

Meanwhile, Kurland's first Astartes airborne squad also burst out of several other drop pods.

This newly appointed Imperial Commander wore tan power armor bearing numerous scars, with the Imperial Fist Chapter's insignia and a unique emblem symbolizing the Imperial Commander on his chest.

He could barely contain his excitement, and across the chaotic battlefield, his gaze burned with intensity as he looked at the giant standing amidst the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Those are the faithful offspring of the Lord of Mankind, the great genetic prototype that disappeared a thousand years ago.

Although the Lord of Fire Dragons was not the genetic father of Kurland and the others, this did not prevent all the Astartes present from being encouraged and their morale from soaring.

"Get to the Primarch's side, clear out the orcs, and establish a defensive perimeter!" Elpis's voice was transmitted to everyone on the battlefield through the communication system.

As soon as he finished speaking, Elpis transformed into a golden lightning bolt and rushed straight towards the core where Vulcan was located.

The Shadowmoon Wolves quickly followed behind him, forming a wedge formation with him at the apex. The rapid-fire of their bomb guns and the roar of their chainswords intertwined, instantly suppressing the frenzied roars of the surrounding orcs.

Kurland reacted swiftly, roaring as he rallied the Space Marines who had just landed and launched a fierce attack from the flank against the Orcs' green tide.

The dense barrage of explosives created a metal storm, precisely intercepting and cutting through the ever-flowing green tide, relieving enormous pressure on the central battlefield.

With the arrival of the second wave of Space Marines aboard Thunderhawk gunships, the Orcish offensive was quickly thwarted by the intervention of the Imperial Guard and elite Astartes squads.

The remaining orcs quickly collapsed after the two Vajra mechs were destroyed, giving the battlefield a brief respite.

Vulcan slammed the Doomsday Tremor hammer into the ground, standing amidst countless orc corpses, his wounds healing at a visible speed.

The Lord of Fire Dragons possessed a powerful life force originating from the depths of his genes, granting him terrifying regenerative abilities several times greater than those of ordinary Space Marines.

"You are," Vulcan's voice boomed like thunder, first looking at the familiar golden figure, "Elpis?"

"It's me, Volkan." Elpis removed his helmet with one hand, revealing a perfect face. "Why did you disappear before, and how did you end up here?"

"I don't know," the Primarch said. "I only vaguely remember my father calling me, and then when I opened my eyes I was in Cordra."

"You've grown taller," Vulcan paused, a hint of reminiscence for the distant past flashing in his eyes, "How is the Empire now? Father, is he alright?"

"Corruption, cowardice, stagnation, but hope remains." Elpis shook his head. "As for His Majesty, he still sits on the golden throne."

"Lord Vulcan!" Kurland approached the Primarch, removing his helmet. "The Empire is in grave danger. The Highlords of Terra are mired in endless infighting, and orcs are rampaging across the galaxy. We need your strength, and humanity needs the Primarch's leadership once more."

Vulcan listened silently to Kurland's almost pleading statement, his expression growing increasingly solemn, finally culminating in a deep sigh. He did not respond to Kurland's request.

"Robert," Vulcan said, his voice tinged with concern, "is he still alive?"

"Lord Guilliman," Kurland paused and said, "for some reason, he returned to Macragge a thousand years ago and has been sleeping in the static field ever since."

"I should have known," Vulcan murmured, a hint of pain flashing in his eyes.

The Primarch looked up at the distant sky, where the Imperial fleet was engaged in fierce combat with the massive Orcish fleet, and the silent halos of explosions flashed continuously outside the thin atmosphere.

"I have heard the call of the Empire, and I am keenly aware of the crisis facing Terra." The Primarch looked at the Space Marines present, his voice firm. "Many years ago, when I was forced to order the extermination of the Cordra, I swore that I would never let the Cordra suffer the same fate of destruction again."

"Now, the orcs have invaded this land, desecrating the world I protect. I cannot leave until I fulfill my oath to the Cordra. This threat must be eliminated by my own hand." Vulcan picked up the warhammer from the ground, his tone resolute.

Elpis listened quietly, sensing the heavy burden of the ancient Vulcan promise, and made the most direct choice.

"Then we'll help you wipe out the orcs on Cordra," Elpis said, pointing his spear at the shadow of the battle moon under construction in the sky, "and destroy the orcs' battle moon while we're at it."

"The orcs have built a massive fortress base here, located in the center of the largest volcanic cluster. They seem to be using geothermal energy to operate some kind of enormous device, drawing material from the planet's surface and core into orbit to create that big thing."

Vulcan shared the intelligence he had gathered over the past few weeks, and then looked at Kurland, saying, "I assure you, once the orcs on the Cordra are dealt with, I will return to Terra with you."

"Understood, sir," Kurland took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement, and quickly entered command mode. "We will immediately reassess the battlefield situation and formulate a new operational plan."

The Lord of Fire's broad hand caressed the cold handle of the Doomsday Hammer, then his gaze swept over Elpis, over every Space Marine, and finally settled on the menacing silhouette of the massive Orcish complex on the distant horizon.

"Then let's end this war."