Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 196 The Cyber ​​War (10) 946.M41

Karata East Wing, Slaanesh Rift.

The walls of the sacred bone at the edge of the rift had been corroded into a honeycomb-like porous structure, from which energy crystals seeped, spreading like pus along the bone's texture. The width of the rift continued to increase, each expansion signifying another wave of Slaanesh forces crossing the torn dimensional boundary.

Guilliman stood on the east wing command platform, where the expansion curve of the purple crack on the holographic projection table was updating every second.

His fingers traced the edge of the projection, adjusting the deployment markers of the Martian Titan cluster one by one. Behind him, a holographic image of the Martian Casting General floated on his flank, its optical array locking onto new coordinates with each of Guilliman's markings.

"The latest Titan cluster on Mars will be deployed within hours," the Martian Forging General's voice trailed off with the dry, mechanical resonance characteristic of his voice. "Twelve Emperor-class, one hundred and thirty-two Warlord-class, one thousand and forty Raider-class, and three thousand six hundred Warhound-class. Also, the Guardian Legion from Mars, and mobile forces from various Forging Worlds in the Solar System to support the Karasta War Zone."

Guilliman's finger paused on the holographic projection. "What about the Slaanesh's troop density?"

Mars Forged General's sensor array focus was fine-tuned. "The numbers cannot be accurately counted. The rifts continue to spew forth, not yet reaching their peak. It is estimated that the total number of demonic forces emerging in each wave is in the tens of millions, including succubi, Slaanesh, hell chariots, and the six chief vanguards of the six archdemons—Slaanesh. Forgrim has been confirmed to have entered the battlefield. He is gathering his main force behind the rifts and has not yet advanced."

Guilliman paused for a moment. "Its mission is to crush."

"Slaanesh is wearing down the Imperial defenses with the continuous outpouring of their demonic armies; the vanguard has already reached its expected limit of losses. Once the defenses are exhausted from the constant engagement, Forgrim will personally lead the main force for a decisive breakthrough."

Guilliman's finger traced across the holographic projection, marking several flanking passages around the Slaanesh Rift in red. "And the depth of the Apostolic Guard?"

"The Guardians of the Faith in all the Forging Worlds are in position," the Mars Forging General replied. "Mars, Lucis, Agrippina, Triple Far, Riza, Voss, and Underworld VIII, totaling over 3.7 million Guardians, have deployed into three lines of defense. Their mission is to clean up the remnants and seal the infiltration channels at the edge of the rift after the Titan Cluster crushes the main force of the Demon Army. The Machine Soul Synchronization Network of the Emperor-class Titans has been completed, and the entire cluster is on standby."

Guilliman's gaze lingered on the green markers that were lighting up one by one on the projection. The markers for twelve Imperial Titans were positioned at the forefront of the array, each occupying an entire firing sector. "General Mars Forging, can your Imperial Titans cut off Vograim's retreat when he appears?"

"It's feasible. The firepower of the Imperial Titans is sufficient. It will form a complete wall of annihilation fire, sealing off the entire rift. However, the final outcome of this confrontation will depend on whether the Titan swarm can completely crush the Slaanesh's main demonic army before Vogrim can commit his forces. Vogrim needs his demonic army to dismantle the Imperial defenses—if the demonic army is crushed first, it will lose its cover and be exposed to the firepower of the Imperial Titans."

"Let's begin."

The sensor array of the Martian Forged General slightly deflected, emitting a short binary pulse. The pulse, traveling along the Martian command chain, sequentially illuminated the soul resonators of each Titan—the indicator lights of the Emperor-class Titans jumped from dark green to bright white, followed by the Warlord-class, Marauder-class, and Warhound-class. Thousands of Titans' indicator lights lit up in the same area, like a layer of ignited light spreading from the center of the array to both sides. That light did not extinguish after reaching the edge of the array, but continued to spread outward along the battle line, covering the area where the Martian Guardians' thirty-seven legions were stationed. Simultaneously, over 3.7 million Guardians completed their posture adjustments—weapon calibration, power armor turning—at their positions, the deep red ranks unfolding forward from the end of the array like a uniformly forged metal plate.

The binary hymn resounded. It poured from the loudspeakers of the Emperor-class Titans, from the soul resonators of the Marauder-class, crashed into the battlefield through the armor plate seams of the Warhound-class, and was transmitted synchronously from the helmet communicators of every Guardian Army. The Martian mechanical monks chanted the most ancient consecration prayers, and each forge world joined the same torrent in its own dialect.

It covered every inch of the battlefield, drowning out the screams and howls of the demon army.

The aura of the Slaanesh Rift rippled violently as the binary hymn touched its edge. The whispers deep within the rift became momentarily disordered.

Forgrim stood inside the rift. His senses pierced the dimensional membrane being scorched by the divine pulse, locking onto the direction of the Eastern Wing Titan cluster. The four-armed serpentine body leaned slightly forward in the purple aura, like a bowstring teetering before it is fully drawn. A very faint laugh escaped his throat, devoid of pleasure, only confirmation. "They've come. They've all come." Then he withdrew his gaze, retreated into the depths of the rift, and walked towards the six Grand Magisters gathering, slowly placing himself in their center, like a seventh volcano sinking into a volcanic field.

The Titan swarm began its advance. The Emperor-class Titans led the way. Twelve Emperor-class Titans formed a wide arc, and as their massive feet landed on the spirit bone ground, the entire cavity sank slightly at the same instant. Their steps were perfectly synchronized—each landing precise to the millisecond. The Machine Soul Synchronization Network compressed the perceptions of thousands of Titans into a single command stream, moving from the first Emperor-class to the last Warhound-class, like a single, cast metal plate, every edge extending forward simultaneously.

Space within Karasta warped and folded within this cavity—the distant Slaanesh rift sometimes appeared overhead, sometimes beneath one's feet, with a persistent discrepancy between the holographic readings and what the naked eye saw. The Titan swarm's soul-synchronization network ignored these distortions, directly pinpointing the rift's true location through soul perception. As the Guardians' phalanx passed through certain areas, the distance between the front and rear ranks would momentarily shift due to the spatial warping. Officers had to maintain their lines using range readings from their power armor, not their eyes. Occasionally, the edges of the phalanx would curve and spring back in view, like the fleeting projection of a folded sheet of paper unfolding.

The first salvo landed. Twelve blazing white plasma beams spanned the entire cavity, precisely striking the fan-shaped area at the Slaanesh rift's exit. The rift's edges were melted, vaporized, and disintegrated by the continuously scorching plasma beams; a layer of the emerging demonic army's vanguard was wiped out in the first salvo. Following closely behind was the firepower of the Warlord-class, with plasma annihilation cannons and massive explosive cannons suppressing the passages on either side of the rift. The Marauder-class formed a barrage from the rear, while thermal cannons and Gatling guns created a moving wall of fire in front of the rift's exit. The Warhound-class cut rapidly into the demonic army's flanks from both sides, the blazing white beams of their plasma explosive cannons blasting open wave after wave of fissures amidst the purple tide.

The Titan swarm advanced with a steady rhythm, each volley landing precisely ahead of the previous volley's impact point. The Machine Soul Synchronization Network merged the perceptions of thousands of Titans into a consciousness network covering the entire battlefield—every Titan knew the positions, angles, and firing windows of the other Titans, knew which sections of the defense needed reinforcement, and which directions needed suppression. The embers of the first salvo were still flowing at the edge of the rift, while the plasma beams of the second salvo were already condensing in the cannon barrels. The firing intervals between adjacent Emperor-class Titans were compressed to almost simultaneous, as if the same cannon was firing continuously.

Slaanesh's demonic army continued to pour out from the rifts. The first wave was wiped out by artillery fire, while the next wave had already crossed the burning boundary line, stepping on the debris. The blades of the Succubi slashed across the leg armor of the Emperor-class Titans, leaving dark purple scorch marks, but the blades were thrown off the contact surface by the maneuvering Titans less than half an inch into the armor surface: Slaanesh beasts pounced on the shoulder armor of the Marauder-class from the flanks, their claws tearing dents in the cooling grates, but before the second Slaanesh beast could catch up, they were melted through the chest cavity by the secondary guns of the Thermomeliscannon: Hellchariots charged out at high speed from the gaps in the demonic army formation, their grinding blades exploding into molten metal fragments on the armor plates of the Warhound-class, and then the entire chariot collided with the aftershocks of the plasma blasting cannons swept out by the Warhound-class as it turned, disintegrating in mid-air. Every attack was halted just before it was about to succeed. The Titan's firepower closed off segment by segment along the demon army's assault path, like a series of precisely calculated gates falling one after another, leading each wave of charge into the predetermined annihilation sector.

The Guardians moved through the landing points of the Titans' massive feet, while the ranks of the various Forged Worlds continued to fire in the gaps between artillery barrages, picking off stray demonic forces attempting to infiltrate through blind spots. Arc hammers exploded in bursts of blue-white electricity at the forefront of the ranks, melting the succubi's blades into charred remains before contact. Their ranks maintained the phalanx formations of the Mechanicus: the Martian phalanxes were in groups of twenty, and the Lucis phalanxes in groups of twenty-five. Countless such phalanxes advanced in unison within the shadows of the Titans' leg armor, each rank maintaining impeccable spacing.

The frequency of Slaanesh outpourings continued to rise. The second wave nearly doubled in number compared to the first, and the third wave doubled again. The purple energy surge accumulated, compressed, and exploded at the rift's exit, scattering fragments of shattered spirit bones throughout the cavity. The figures of six great demons gradually took shape behind the rift, their outlines flickering in the purple energy surge.

Forgrim remained standing among the six Archdemons. Through the dimensional membrane repeatedly scorched by the artillery fire, he sensed the direction of the Titan array. He waited for the Titan swarm's firepower to begin to wane from continuous output, waited for the moment when the Imperial Titans' cannons would briefly cool down due to overheating.

On the flank of the battle line, a small squad of the Imperial Guard was covering the weak points of the Guardian Army's formation. The gleaming gold armor formed a silent barrier before the demon army's blades, and with each swing of the garrison spears, the approaching Slaanesh beasts were cleared from the lines.

Vogrim's perception detected an anomaly. It wasn't coming from the direction of the Titan array, but from the flank. The dimensional membrane at the edge of the network was being compressed from the outside, like a taut layer of skin being pushed up from the other side by some immense force. The edges of the rift were jagged, and chaotic dark purple and greenish-gray hues eroded, exploded, and reformed at the crack, the broken network structure curling outwards like torn metal foil.

An irregularly shaped star, over 300 kilometers in diameter, emerged from the fissure. Its surface was covered with a rough layer of WAAAGH!

A force field, a grayish-green energy membrane, pulsed irregularly across the armor plate surface, like a living coating welded to scrap metal. Its most striking feature was a gigantic orc face made of movable armor plates, a single fang protruding from either side of its gaping maw, its "eyes" glowing with a dark red light. That maw was slowly opening, revealing a passageway inside that was releasing assault boats and boarding pods. The edge of the War Moon emitted a continuous, harsh metallic hiss as it embedded itself into the network of fissures, like a piece of wrought iron forced into a narrow crevice, trembling repeatedly under sustained stress. Even as it paused at the edge of the cavity, the network structure at the fissure's edge continued to emit a low, persistent energy wail; the entrance was never truly stable.

The assault boat and the boarding pod launched simultaneously, streaking across the cavity for hundreds of kilometers in a crude, orange-red trail of flame as they swooped down towards the surface of Karasta. The boarding pod crashed into the spiritbone ground, its hull tearing apart at the seams upon impact, debris still scattering in all directions. The orc lads inside had already emerged, scrambling through the shattered armor plates. The assault boat opened its hatch at low altitude, and the orc infantry began firing before even landing, their bullets cratering the spiritbone ground, but the vast majority were stopped outside the lines by the void shields erected in front of the Apostolic Guard.

The first wave of fire struck the Void Shield force field in front of the Guardians' formation. The crudely made orc warheads shattered into fragments on the blue-white energy membrane, failing to penetrate. However, the portals on the surface of the War Moon continued to release energy, with a new batch of assault craft being launched into the cavity every three seconds. The ballistic density was doubling, the Void Shield's bearing area was continuously expanding, and the energy readings were climbing every second.

The Imperial Titans' volcanic cannons turned simultaneously. Twelve blazing white plasma beams traversed a cavity hundreds of kilometers wide, slamming into the densest network of portals on the surface of the War Moon. WAAAGH! The force field fluctuated violently under the sustained heat of the plasma beams, and arcs exploded at the point of impact. A second salvo followed immediately, and the force field in the same area began to crack. The third salvo struck the same spot—the force field shattered completely, the armor plates were exposed to the direct heat of the plasma beams, and the internal scrap metal structure exploded from the inside due to the thermal shock, tearing open the surrounding portals as well.

But the Greenskins' tide had already landed. Upon landing, they spread out in two directions simultaneously. One part surged towards the Slaanesh Rift, while the other spread towards the flanks of the Titan swarm. The rift's exit was forced open from the side by the Greenskins, and the surging demon army clashed directly with the Greenskins' vanguard at the rift's edge. Purple blades and grey-green cleavers tore each other apart at extremely close range; the Greenskins' attacks covered indiscriminately.

The Titan swarm was forced to maintain firepower simultaneously from three directions. The front continued to suppress the Slaanesh Rift, the left flank shifted towards the War Moon, and the right flank intercepted the Ork vanguard flanking from the side. The Binary Hymn's rhythm experienced its first deviation without breaking, but the load on each Machine Soul was climbing, with the cooldown interval after each salvo shortening by several seconds compared to the previous one. The Emperor-class Titan's Void Shield endured high-frequency impacts under the continuous barrage of Ork fire, its energy readings fluctuating near the green zone. The cooling grates began to glow with a dark red aura, and the cooldown cycle interval had been compressed below the critical threshold.

Fugrim sensed the change—the Titans' firepower was gradually decreasing due to fighting on three fronts, and the window he was waiting for was slowly appearing through the cracks.

Guilliman's finger landed back on the holographic projection platform. "Slaanesh battlefield direction, mobile fleet—flank the War Moon's flank. Prioritize destroying the force field generator array. Draw its fire away from the ground."

Mars Forged General's sensor array deflected, transmitting command pulses toward the network gate. The Imperial Navy's First Strike Fleet was the first to turn, its thruster exhaust trailing dozens of parallel blue streaks in the cold psionic light, accelerating toward the War Moon.

Hundreds of parallel cracks appeared in the armor plates on the surface of the war moon, revealing the crudely made muzzles of the macro cannons. Above them, an even deeper fissure was opening a gravity whip's firing array, exposed energy conduits meandering along the scrap metal surface, dark red energy converging at the focal point. The first salvo slammed into the Imperial fleet's lines. A light cruiser's void shield overloaded and exploded under the continuous hits, its hull snapping in two. The gravity whip's energy beam swept across the side of a battleship, instantly compressing its void shield below critical pressure, its armor plates caved inward, and several decks were flattened. The battleship's hull collapsed inward from its side, its keel twisted and broke, and the entire ship snapped in the vacuum.

But the Imperial fleet did not slow down. They continued their advance under heavy fire, with macro cannons and light spears relentlessly raining down on the vulnerable points on the surface of the War Moon that had already been marked by the volcanic cannons. The Gravity Whip's firing array required a long recharge, and before it could reactivate, the Imperial fleet had already covered the flanks of the War Moon with firepower.

When the WAAAGH! force field completely extinguished in the area where the force field generator array was located, the light spear pierced through the exposed armor plate. The third salvo hit the force field generator array on the flank of the War Moon—the Imperial fleet's macro cannons and the Titans' volcanic cannons hit the same area at the same time. The force field in that area completely disappeared, and the launch speed of the assault boats and boarding hulls dropped sharply.

On the surface of the War Moon, the colossal figure did not turn towards the fleet. His gaze momentarily shifted from the Titan cluster, landing on the outlines of the approaching Imperial ships. One claw clenched its grip on the edge of scrap metal, then released, withdrawing its gaze and locking onto the Titan cluster again. The grey-green tide continued to surge from the surface of the War Moon.

Fugrim withdrew his senses. He took a step back, rejoining the array of six great demons—still not advancing, still waiting. The three forces converged, tore at each other, and squeezed against one another within the same cavity.

The burning of Carrasta did not affect Garros's net expansion.

The primary planet is a hive world, matching the previously scouted candidate coordinates in the database. After departing from the Garros network port, Cohen confirmed the stability and reliability of this route. Once the engineering team's escort ship arrived, a portable network portal was established. Cohen appeared on the real-world side and, after confirming the node's size, fixed the network portal—another large network portal spanning five kilometers. The spirit skeleton frame unfolded from the ripples of the void, and dark golden psionic energy channels lit up one by one along the frame's arc, slowly stabilizing in the vacuum, officially connecting Dagonus to the Garros network.

With the portal anchored, the psionicist activated the true Webgate, and the Black Pearl arrived in the Dagonus system, where the Webgate had been established on the outer edge of the system. Dagonus unfolded on the sensor screens. Cohen saw a standard K-type star, four rocky planets, and two gas giants.

Black Pearl began its journey toward the host star of this star system. Sensors began scanning the planet, precisely analyzing the region below low orbit.

Beneath the Crown of Valancius, a fissure stretching several kilometers from the hive's outer shell to the underlying rock layers. Dense flames seeped from the cracks in the armor plates of the hive's outer shell, weaving a pulsating, dark red network across the night hemisphere. Data panel readings indicated that the planet's industrial systems had been systematically destroyed in weeks of continuous fighting.

The communication request was accepted. Lady Margaret von Valancius appeared in the hologram. Her face was thinner than it had been a few years ago. She had short, silver-grey hair, wore a dark blue merchant's robe, and the Valancius family crest was embroidered on her chest. She spoke without pleasantries: "Your Excellency, Director of Foundry. You have appeared in orbit around Dagonus—I can only assume you already knew that this planet was burning. I was searching for reinforcements in the Wandering Harbor and had already sent a request for support to Garros. The Valancius family's liaison had not yet arrived in Garros when you arrived."

"I've already seen the fighting at Dagonus," Cohen said.

Ms. Silver's gaze lingered on Cohen's face for a moment, confirming he wasn't just being polite. "Then, the Valancius family requests assistance." She paused. "You must see my brother, Hermann von Valancius, the head of the family. The chaos in Dagonus is related to the gene-stealers. You need to see it all with your own eyes."

Cohen's reply was without hesitation: "My flagship is entering orbit. Tell your men not to fire on the landing forces."

Communications were cut off. Marcus stepped forward from behind the tactical console. "The ground situation has been preliminarily assessed. The Valancius family's control has shrunk to three fortified hives in the equatorial region, with a population of approximately 800 million. The Genestealers' hive is located in the deep tunnels beneath the capital hive, while the Chaos Cult's core stronghold is in the ruins of the administrative center of the second hive. The chaos left behind by the Dark Eldar raids has allowed these two forces to each occupy stable territories, occasionally clashing, but more often attacking the Valancius family's defenses independently. At the current rate of attrition, the capital hive will fall within seven to ten days."

"Are the Defenders ready?"

"Previously, to prevent any unforeseen circumstances, four regiments were temporarily stationed on the Black Pearl. The vanguard regiment has now completed loading into the Stormbird. The Storm Assault Team of eight hundred men is also on standby." Marcus paused for a moment. "Governor Hermann's communications will be available in twenty minutes."

"Throw it in."

Hermann von Valancius's ugly face appeared in the image of Uncle Xi. He was more than ten years older than Lady Silver, with short, gray-white hair and a translucent, adamantite mechanical eye embedded in his left eye. He was thin and ugly. He saw the gray-yellow planet in the background of the porthole behind Cohen slowly rotating. His mechanical eye shrank slightly, and then he spoke: "Your Excellency, Director of Foundry. You have appeared in orbit around Dagonus. Margaret told me you have arrived. The Valancius family will not forget that Garros responded to goodwill with goodwill. As for what Dagonus is doing to you—my family's forces have been compressed into the last few hives in the equatorial region. I will provide the coordinates of all known Genestealer hives and the locations of Chaos Cult strongholds."

Cohen's reply was brief: "The army will land on the equatorial region within six hours. Your family's forces need to coordinate their firing windows to avoid accidentally hitting our Dengpi troops. Until then, send the coordinate data to the Black Pearl's tactical link."

Herman had simulated three potential encounters with the reinforcement commander over the past three weeks—each ending with varying degrees of concessions. But the other side hadn't offered any conditions requiring concessions. He paused for a moment, then said, "The coordinates will be sent in twenty minutes. The outer perimeter of the Crown of Valancieus will clear a drop corridor for your troops." He paused again. "I would greatly appreciate it if you could come to command center in person."

Cohen did not hesitate: "I will go there after the cleanup is over. I have important matters to discuss in detail."

Hermann's prosthetic eye twitched. He cut off the communication.

Cohen turned and walked toward the hangar. The Stormtroopers' transport ships were already waiting, and several soldiers stood in formation within the hangar. They were equipped with Type 500Y Radiant Gold Power Armor—the dark gold shell gleamed with a somber sheen in the cold light, and the edges of their crimson cloaks were embroidered with low-gothic battle mottoes in gold thread. When their helmet visors were closed, a gear and skull insignia were etched on their foreheads.

Cohen stood at the gangway, watching the Stormstrike force board the ship in formation. "Clear the Genestealer's lair and the Chaos Cult's core stronghold. Be quick, don't give them time to regroup."

Kara walked at the front of the line and boarded the transport ship.

The Guardians of the Church advanced in sync with the rest of the orbit. Soldiers in crimson cloaks landed on the surface of the Gonus equatorial region aboard transport ships, deploying several parallel lines of advance around the hive city controlled by the Valancius family. The fanatical faith of the Chaos Cult crumbled under the volley of the Guardians of the Church, and the lines were torn apart after the first engagement; the hybrids of the Genestealers were gradually eliminated by the continuous fire of the Meltguns; and the gangs that had risen up in the chaos scattered and fled after the first engagement.

The Stormtroopers advanced faster. The Valancius family had already stormed the outer passages of the Brood multiple times in their counterattacks over the past few weeks, significantly reducing the Brood's reserve forces in the early attrition warfare. Kara led several elite Stormtroopers into the Genestealer Brood at the bottom of the city. The passage was narrow, the walls covered in organic deposits, and the air thick with a sour, putrid stench. Purebloods emerged from the depths of the passage, their greyish-purple carapaces gleaming damply in the dim emergency lights. Short bursts of explosive rifles exploded at close range, each bullet shattering on the pureblood's skull. Kara led the group, her power sword already drawn before the pureblood patriarch could leap from the end of the passage—the blade slicing through a seam in the neck carapace, piercing the central nervous system node, severing it horizontally. The massive carapace collapsed, plunging forward into the passage wall. At the same time, the remaining Storm Assault Team members finished clearing out the remaining purebloods on both sides of the passage. When the last one was hit in the back of the head by a bomb and his skull was shattered, Zijian still left a final scratch on the wall blade.

Deep within the mother nest, after confirming that the servant material deposits and hatching chambers had been completely cleared, the technical priest initiated directional blasting.

The Guardians of the Faith are responsible for the cleanup work, while the Storm Commando is responsible for the task of eradicating karma. The two lines of operation proceed simultaneously without interfering with each other.

On the Uncle's projection platform, Herman watched the advancing blue thrust line. Its trajectory drew a straight dividing line across his city's terrain—descending from orbit to the surface, piercing the Genestealer's nest, and then spreading outwards in a dream-fan-shaped sweep. The blue thrust line penetrated deeper into the heart of the hive than any of his counterattacks in the previous three months. The defensive lines he had spent weeks organizing to retake were now covered by the Uncle's forces as the marker moved.

He glanced at the timer on the data panel. Less than two hours had passed from the first wave of the Guardians of the Faith to the confirmed elimination of the Genestealer's nest.

Cohen returned to the bridge, while Marcus stood behind the tactical console. "The cleanup operation on Dagonus will take several more weeks to complete, but the main threat has been eliminated. The Genestealer's hive has been confirmed destroyed, the Chaos Cult's core stronghold has been captured by the Guardians, and the remaining forces are being systematically eliminated. The Valancius family is regaining control of the Hive City. This is the fifth Hive City world that Garros has thrown into the galaxy."

Cohen stood at the porthole. The planet below was still burning, but the color of the flames was changing from an out-of-control dark red to a controlled orange-red. The Netgate above the orbit glowed with a steady, cold psionic light.

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