Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"They don't have the manpower."

Some gladiators were hit by artillery fire from the ground, and one of them died on the spot. Although the number of dead seems to be insignificant in a war, the number of warriors who can still fight side by side with the Lord of Red Sand at this time is only a few dozen that can be expressed with both hands. The loss of every life is a heavy and painful weight that is extremely difficult to bear.

"They have no experience."

Unable to solve the reloading problem, a group of soldiers dropped their guns in annoyance and gnashed their teeth behind the hill, watching the vehicles of the city defense force pass through the low-lying passage they guarded. The mission delivered by Angron himself missed the only opportunity, and every failure of theirs will be a hidden danger for the future war situation.

"They have no reputation."

Flags with red backgrounds and black stripes were casually pulled down and burned by the Nuceria local army. Before these flags were actually planted by Angron and his brothers and sisters all over the city of Nuceria, this was just another sign. A gladiator uprising that occurred once in decades, they could not make anyone fear them, let alone mobilize the will of more fellow slaves to resist. Angron and his warriors need military success and fame, and none of this can fall from the sky.

"But of course they can win," Morse said, waiting for further changes on the regicide board.

In the white area of ​​the chessboard labeled Desian City, Angron is discussing tactics with his warriors.

"We must operate in small groups," said the Primarch, "valuing life. I am completely opposed to carrying high-power explosives for one-man attacks without return. Even if our numbers increase in the future, unnecessary casualties still need to be avoided. Do no harm Commoners, the target of our hatred is the high-ranking riders, even if many of us do have a grudge against the spectators on the high platform."

The second half of his words caused a small internal dissatisfaction, but with Angron's insistence, this dissatisfaction was quickly narrowed and resolved. They are reunited.

"He needs to be careful," Morse said. "Not everyone is like him, with some weak kindness." After he finished speaking, he found that he still said the word.

"Hmm..." The emperor pondered, continuing to pay attention to the changes on the chessboard.

He noticed that the warriors around Angron seemed to be particularly easy to reach some kind of emotional unity. When he created the Primarch, he endowed almost every Primarch with an equal amount of moderate psychic talent, with the exception of Magnus, who was a full psyker. As for No. 12, he seems to have shown his talent in telepathic psychic abilities.

On the chessboard, the city that has been continuously disturbed has entered a preliminary state of defense. After a long period of sluggishness caused by no external enemy intrusion, the mobilization of soldiers and the transportation of firepower are on the right track. Interestingly, the city is still not under martial law. Perhaps rather than the distant threat of the city being breached, the arrogant needs of the city's nobles and ruling class were more pressing for the garrison generals.

When the army huddles in the city or at the outposts around the city, Angron's gladiators will immediately launch assaults and harass the base. Their rear is in Desia, a city that has been jointly guarded by the forces of the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors, two legions that are particularly good at defensive warfare. This freed Angron from worrying about any future consequences.

When the Nucerian local army took the initiative to mobilize troops to attack, Perturabo used an attitude somewhere between a generous gift and a forced request. He solemnly forced a large number of artillery and rockets to Angron to help The Primarch in the red sand attacks the enemy.

During this period, the two expeditionary armies for the empire naturally could not waste time on the planet Nuceria for a long time.

The city of Desia on the surface was regarded as a temporary base for the expeditionary force. Perturabo and Rogal Dorn used Nuceria as the center point to advance their troops to the surrounding star areas. They have learned that there are several different areas inhabited by humans not far away, such as the Tower LS system. It's just that they are temporarily unable to locate the coordinates in that direction.

In short, the first thing to succumb to the peace talks between the two Primarchs was a planet named Aphotic Star by the locals. On the local Perturabo, they once again saw some familiar milky white bone materials abandoned here. The owners of these malleable materials, which appear to grow and metamorphose on their own, have not been traced.

Angron traced the pulse of war in his own way. For such a Primarch, it is unlikely that any existing teachings on systematic warfare would be entirely suitable to his will. He can only find his own path to war in war.

Soon after, the city-states under attack began to change their thinking and sent out mobile troops to conduct reconnaissance activities. The large number of improvised roadside bombs set by Angron caused numerous difficulties for their lightly armed patrols, while the tens of kilograms of high-yield anti-tank bombs and artillery shells strung together as improvised explosive devices hindered the activities of the heavily armed patrols. In fact, the patrol couldn't even find the rocket launcher Angron had set up.

If Angron had more warriors, he would essentially be more inclined to involve the warriors themselves in volleys. In his inherent thinking, grenades and grenades were more like bluff weapons for superiors, and were not suitable for warriors who grew up in hot sand. .

However, the reality is that in order to protect the few companions around him, Angron accepted the endless firepower and ammunition left by the Iron Warriors to replace the sacrifice of real people.

In any case, this flexible team greatly weakened the morale of the armored forces of the city army. The city of Hozan, which had the technological advantage of Old Night - they now learned the name of the city - was furious, and their technological advantage Weakened by their cowardice.

After many attacks, Hozan City began to launch unorganized attacks. Their aircraft took off from behind the watchtower and flew towards the locked Desia. Naturally, these military attempts were easily suffocated by the Imperial Fists warriors defending the city.

"Primarch Angron, do you need assistance?" asked the company commander of the Imperial Fist. "The targets of these local defenders' indiscriminate attacks are the residential areas and production areas of Desia City, as well as the areas where the Tarc family is working. Some of the bricks of the Wall of Tears were knocked off.”

Angron smiled in return: "If you want to launch siege artillery, company commander, tell us in advance, I will withdraw my soldiers from the war zone."

He is not opposed to using the power he already has at hand to fight. After all, it was his brother's care that saved them from the beginning. Angron will not unrestrictedly pursue the illusory purity of position in the concept of resistance - okay, Maybe this is also related to the fact that the empire's military technology is so easy to use.

In short, no matter how these high-level riders are gliding in the air on long silver wings, or lying down on velvet silk sofas, how sophisticated their sound wave disruptors and matter conversion beamers are, and their persistence will slow them down. It's all sad and terrible.

What's more, after monitoring the attitude of the local people in the enemy's communication channel for the first time, Angron also gained a new understanding of the true control of the high-level riders over their people.

The war forced the bloody performances in the arena to come to an end, and an atmosphere of threatened security pervaded the city of Hozan.

After losing the distraction of national entertainment, the people finally realized that there was nothing in their lives, and when they raised their heads, the people really began to think about why they had so little, while the high-level riders seemed to have everything. world.

This, together with the warning of war that had not sounded in Hozan for hundreds of years, had shaken the dominance of the high-level riders over the people from different angles.

When the first rocket hit the watchtower of Hozan, the myth that the troops under the high-level riders could not be challenged was quickly and ruthlessly broken in front of the entire city of Hozan. From the army to the people, the actual losses were not small. Under the premise, the psychological and spiritual blow they suffered was still far greater than the actual military losses.

The entire city was immersed in a silent shock, and the daily activities of work and life that were forced to suspend during each attack quickly turned this shock into dissatisfaction with the ruling class.

This negative sentiment reached a peak when Hozan's garrison later publicly announced that they would not launch further attacks into Desia, part of which was in conflict with another group of nobles who dominated the country known as the Citadel. A large number of people simultaneously attacked the garrison for being "indecisive, cowardly and incompetent", while the family that dominated Hozan was in trouble.

They could not understand why a group of gladiators possessed such abnormal tactics, military prowess, and discipline. In any recorded slave rebellion, some slaves did manage to break into the city, but this long and exhausting battle weakened the family's dominance in a way that the high-ranking knights had not expected.

For a long time, high-ranking knights have lowered their heads to gaze at the arena, watching this place where many people with different views, rebels, descendants of enemies and sinners, and helpless orphans fight in the cage, and they may not have a superior feeling. The heart of ridicule.

They gain inner security by watching gladiatorial fights, and use the meaning of slave existence to strengthen the idea that disobedient people have been shackled, locked in cages, and domesticated: these resistors are powerful enough to fight wild beasts with their bare hands. It's just a toy in the hands of the nobles.

After the public competition stopped, high-level riders began to organize bloody gladiatorial performances privately, which intensified. The pressure from the outside world was released on the heads of the lowest slaves in Hozan, with a certain sense of urgency that the end was approaching. Under normal circumstances, high-level riders would consciously control the mortality rate of gladiators to avoid finding that their toys have been consumed one day, but now, they have reduced their conscious scruples.

In addition, some civilians on the high platform gained the same sense of pride as the nobles while watching the gladiatorial fight, and these people panicked and defected faster than anyone else.

To them, the flag with a red background and a black pattern symbolized a group of terrifying beasts from neighboring countries breaking out from their broken chains and broken cages. They believed that these beasts would definitely kill the defenders after Threatening their own lives. In the city of Hozan, the security balance system that Nuceria had built over hundreds of years was instantly broken. They began to ask the ruler of Hozan City to protect their lives.

This trend was exploited by other factions of the nobility, and thus continued to grow. After all, some people often believe that crisis is a good time to exercise power.

This battle caused almost no losses to Angron's side, and many people even gradually stepped out of the shadow of the gladiatorial arena through this hopeful battle that achieved results under command.

Angron himself was immersed in the battle. Instead of being disturbed, his thoughts became more and more awake. He clearly knows the reason for every instruction he makes, and can also answer why he is fighting. Deep in his heart, he gradually made a decision.

When Angron led the gladiators to knock down Hozan's watchtower and use light vehicles to break through the chaotically defended Hozan city from the front, the gladiatorial arena in the city finally took the opportunity to launch a riot. Some slaves did not break the chains on both wrists and rushed out of the cave swinging two iron ropes. The double oppression of high-ranking riders took away the possibility of their survival, and gathering under the banner of Angron became their only way out.

Likewise, compared to the real threat posed by the gladiators of Hozan, mass panic is what really captures the lifeblood of the city of Hozan. After a long period of preparation, this frontal assault took no more than thirty hours in total from entering the city gate, conducting urban combat, to breaking through the royal palace of Hozan. The Guards' silver vine mechanical tentacles and advanced guns are extremely powerless in urban warfare.

If we include the incident where a few gladiators found the stairs leading to the top of the palace, planted their flags on the top of the highest palace in Hozan, and made their symbols flutter in the air, then the time spent was within thirty-one hours. .

Angron specifically asked the warriors to bring the supreme ruler of Hozan City to him, and burst into laughter when they discovered that the so-called ruler turned out to be a five-year-old child with weak legs and feet.

He leaned over and rubbed the child's head, and recognized from the child's rough palms that this child might be a laundry slave.

"This is what they chose." Angron said solemnly, tearing up the list he had prepared.

He originally planned to have his gladiators execute high-ranking knights whose crimes deserved to be listed on the list. After all, the pressure on the warriors needed to be released.

"Kleist," he said, "please help me find the genealogical records of the ruler's family history, and then find the gladiators of Hozan and tell them that they can come to me with the heads of the people in the genealogy. In addition, , can you help me find the real master of Huozan?"

The female gladiator readily agreed, stepping on her long knife and leaving like a dancer. Thirty minutes later, a nobleman wearing a messy linen bag knelt at his feet.

"Stand up." Angron said, pulling the nobleman up from the ground.

When the other party could barely stand still and put on an awkward and flattering expression that hid resentment, intending to accept the new conqueror as his master, he tore the other party's flesh and blood, letting the blood and internal organs pour out.

"Do me one more favor, Kleist." Angron wiped the blood from his face and said calmly, "Go and ask the correspondents left by my brother's army if they can contact Terra for me."

His gaze passed through the long hall and landed on the horizon. Today's clouds are the iron-gray color of weapons and equipment, covering many of Nuceria's high walls and towers that have not yet been breached. The war will continue on the ground and will never end.

And he had just liberated a city with his own hands. In the future, as his two brothers said, they will bring liberation and new life to more planets.

"I think... we can carry out the next liberation together with my future army." The Lord of Red Sand said.

Kleist grinned, the scar making her face distorted and wild. Based on those vague impressions, she saluted Angron with a very informal military salute.

Terra, Himalayas, Royal Palace.

"Then, this game of regicide chess is over." Morse raised his hand, peeling off his spiritual energy like silk threads in circles. The illusion of Nuceria disappeared from the top of the chessboard, and he withdrew his flashing runes like smoke. , in the palm wrapped in black cloth.

He closed the chessboard and smiled at the Emperor.

"Go." The emperor nodded.