Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 443 Great Victory

When Horus rushed up the tower, Erebus was right behind him.

He witnessed the pearly white whirlwind sweeping through the blood foam of the aliens, and moving between many huge green monsters. Even though he seemed to be surrounded, his giant hammer could always ensure that only one or two beasts could swing their claws at him at a time, while the rest of the opponents fell to the ground as if swept by a storm, roaring and standing up in the gap between the heavy hammers of the shepherd wolf god, and then being hit hard again and staggered.

There were no opponents in front of him, and the will to fight burned in his body. The supernatural speed made his heavy hammer leave an afterimage incomparable, and countless fierce counterattacks were forcibly stopped by the majestic power of the shepherd wolf god when they were only an inch away from Horus.

He pierced the orc's chest with a swift force, sweeping his arm to tear the enemy's arm, letting the broken bones pierce the cross section of the amputated limb, and the green skin twisted and bent like wrinkles on the water under the hammer, and the stumps fell to the ground, bleeding.

He simply and directly ravaged all the enemies who dared to prevent him from fulfilling his mission, directly taking the attacks he could withstand with his thick armor, and reaching out to accurately block the sharp weapons.

He destroyed, killed, and destroyed until the giant beasts as tall as him stumbled and fell to the ground before him, like a tumbling stone.

The fire burst out from the hand cannon installed on the back of the hand at the moment when the claws swung; the blazing light lingered and exploded on the surface of the giant hammer that was charged and hit hard; blood flew out from the bodies of the enemies and fell on the bright pre-battle oath on the chest, like red ink splashing, like blood stone solidification; the reflected light radiated from the polished arc shoulder armor and Horus's smooth head, forming an invisible guide.

"Follow me!" Horus laughed happily, "My Gastalin!"

They rushed to the tower of Urag, this is the last boss. Once Horus Lupercal wins, the victory bell of Ullanor will ring throughout the world, and the Great Expedition will come to an end step by step in celebration and ceremony.

The Astartes will switch from offense to defense, countless regulations will be re-finalized, and the Terra Council, formed by two friends of the Emperor, will strictly screen the ruling clerks of various departments. On the premise of avoiding the emergence of fools who choose to betray because of fear of light like the beginning of the Empire, the civil service system will be equal to the military force. The decree similar to the Ultramar Hero System will be initially adopted to ensure the coexistence of mortals and Astartes and proper governance...

But the era of conquest is bound to end, and a rapidly rising channel has been closed. After that, every military merit, if not nurturing the enemy to protect oneself, can only wait for opportunities-distant opportunities, uncertain opportunities, and opportunities that may exist.

The galaxy will have a short and precious peace.

A short and hateful peace.

What are you waiting for? The voice asked, you are letting your chance go. Only chaos can bring class turmoil, and a stable order will erase your future possibilities.

What do you want to suggest? Erebus cursed, you don't want me to do it to Horus Lupercal? This is not an opportunity at all, this is suicide.

Just one knife, Erebus, demigods also have their weaknesses, no one stands forever, unchanging.

The voice is gentle and persuasive, like snake scales rubbing against Erebus' neck, mixed with faint screams, roars, hissing whispers and chuckles.

What knife?

The knife of opportunity, the knife of ritual, the knife of killing. As long as you want, you will hold it in your hand.

The bird flew past Erebus's eyes and landed on the top of the illusory high branch. It was small and distant, with blue crystal eyes embedded in colorful and gorgeous feathers. It was the size of the scorpion he played with when he was a child, but it had the intelligence to watch him - just like it could tear him into ten thousand pieces at any time along the scriptures on his skin, and then peck out his eyeballs to play with in its claws.

The greenskins were still around him, but their attacks seemed confused. The crudely made axe passed by his armor dangerously, and the muzzle of the gun that should have been fatal suddenly exploded at the last moment... A higher power controlled the existence around him, paving a road for him that only he could see.

Follow Horus, the voice said, just one knife. As long as you think, the knife will be in your hand.

Erebus squeezed his eyes hard, and in front of him, a network-like road was woven with silver-blue silk threads, and the light spots were connected in series, extending all the way to the tower that Horus ran up.

He saw it, that was the illusion that would happen in the next few dozen minutes.

Going along the silver-blue road, any attack from the greenskins would only pass by him. With his desire for a sharp blade, a twisted knife would appear in his hand silently, and the handle fit his palm, as if it was born to belong to him.

As Horus threw Urag off the tower by the neck, the blade suddenly flew out of the shadows and scratched Horus' shoulder, a small, insignificant scar -

Then, Horus Lupercal, eyes wide open, fell down the tower with the beast he killed, like a boulder rolling down the mountain, never to return.

This is your chance, the voice advised. Horus died without a burial place, and chaos and change will exist forever in the galaxy. Countless opportunities will be spun by this blade of destiny, and you, you will continue to climb, continue...

Another person appeared beside Erebus, and the greenskins were pushed away by a strong repulsive force around him, as if to make way for him. His hood was blown away by the strong wind blowing from the damaged tower, revealing an old face.

Prime Minister Malcador was here in person.

The scepter of the Aquila was held high in the hands of the bearer, and the golden light radiated to the surroundings, instantly forming a brilliant spiritual shield, protecting the original body fighting on the front line, strengthening his power, and expanding his actions The power makes his movements more destructive and majestic.

"Horus Luperkar! In the name of the Emperor, I will bring his gaze and convey his power," Malcador said solemnly, his voice echoing clearly on the battlefield.

"Haha!" Horus laughed loudly, and the spiritual radiance of guardianship flowed all over his body. "Do I need your protection, Malcador? Thank you!"

The heavy hammer knocked the green-skinned leader to the ground. Horus grabbed the beast's throat, picked up its broken body, and threw it out of the tower.

Amid the wail of the falling beast, Horus Luperkar held his war hammer high, his eyes shining like twin stars. The battlefield was silent for a moment, and then cheers surged like a huge tide.

The snake hissed viciously in Erebus's ear, and Erebus knitted his eyebrows. The regretful resentment was fleeting, and he smiled in celebration and merged into the wave of shouts.

"Wolf God!"

——

"The Emperor has summoned all his heirs - those who are available, and those who are not available or don't want to go, let's talk about it. Many legions will go to the Ullanor system to celebrate the victory of this battle." Morse waved his hand and let the stars The document in Yu moved away from the holographic screen, "A predictable event."

Perturabo sat on the bedside, moving his arms that were stiff due to a long coma. The specific method was to place a bunch of fragmented and fine parts on the table for the Lord of Iron to use his creative ability to make Ingenious objects that come out of who knows what.

In these few days, his soul was finally able to control his body again. Even though the scar left by the Nightmare Sun still needs time to be completely healed, this does not prevent the Lord of Iron from completing his activities normally and fighting at a level that does not involve the soul.

It is worth mentioning that he did not plunge into a mountain of to-do tasks as soon as he woke up. This was thanks to Olympia's Callifon and Morse, who rarely decided to be diligent.

Under the conditions of natural aging, Kalifon, who once rejuvenated her youth, has once again grown silver hair, and this time, she sighed and calmly accepted a certain degree of life-extending surgery.

"By the way," Morse continued, "Donn sent you his drawings, and he wanted to know if you had time to take a look at the architectural design of his venue."

"He has several months to design and has plenty of experience." Perturabo couldn't help but say.

"That's the way Rogal Dorn does things," Morse shrugged. "You'd better reply to him, otherwise I think sooner or later he will have to ask you what happened."

Perturabo sighed, "Okay."

After a two-second pause, he couldn't help but ask: "When did he become like this?"

Morse looked at Perturabo: "What do you think?"

Perturabo found the transcoded blueprint package in silence, and stared at the military camp rest area and the central high platform arranged in concentric circles.

Morse continued: "Although this is a celebration, rumors are rampant about the election of the Warmaster, and you know that is exactly what will happen in Ullanor."

"A formal election," said Perturabo, "everyone knows it will be held under the watchful eye of the Emperor, and who will win, and I will cast my vote for Horus Lu. Pekar.”

"I'm sure he will always remember your support, and you know how much he values ​​your opinion." Morse shrugged and turned sideways.

One thing is clear: with Perturabo's current reputation, his public support is a necessary condition for Horus Luperkar to gain full recognition from the Primarch.

"So, you're going to attend?" he said.

"I have no reason to be absent," Perturabo replied. "How many people are prepared to attend?"

"That's obviously not something I can know, and I'm not a prophet. I believe Lorgar Aurelion will be there, for obvious reasons. I think someone who is on good terms with Horus will go, and if you're not lucky, Maag Nuth and Mortarion will unfortunately be forced to cross paths, and I'm certain that Konrad Curze will not be going."

"Koz?"

"How long have you not seen him since the Holy Grail Expansion was discovered?" Morse gave a reminder, "He already wants to take all the Eldar and disappear in the Webway node, and then look up at the stars every night, looking at the Tai It’s time to write a sonnet. Yago Savitarion is taking over the House of Nightghosts, and Nostramo will become the true home planet of the Eighth Legion.”

Perturabo frowned, and after a while, shook his head slightly. "Let him make his decision - actually this reminds me of one thing. It may be time for the network to be made public."

"You just can't wait for your Iron Warriors to crawl out from the back of the galaxy," Morse said, raising an eyebrow as Perturabo sat up straighter. "The rune of Thutmons has cast a shadow over the webway. There is a layer of tarpaulin, but the real disclosure will have to wait until the emperor’s plan is fully implemented before the normal navigation of the remaining roads can be confirmed.”

"But what did the Emperor rely on to determine the birth of the Tyrant Star?" Perturabo asked, "Sufficient preparation can bring a greater possibility of success."

"The power of Tyrant Star is based on hatred and death," Morse said calmly, "The Great Crusade has already nurtured its prototype. Once the Emperor confirms that the conditions are right, he will allow it to come. At that time, I believe we will get an advance notice. That day will not be far away."

"I look forward to that day." Perturabo said, noticing that Morse's face briefly passed a dark shadow.

"Me too," Morse said, "How many are there now-"

Since Perturabo had just regained consciousness, he had not yet started to connect those complex neural interfaces back to his back of the head one by one. When he can get out of bed in the future-that is within a few days, he will start to reconnect them to his mind.

But now, the Thinker still needs to do the work of a machine for the Iron Lord, such as issuing a notification sound for new information.

"El'Jonson?" The identity of the sender was beyond Perturabo's expectations. He could not think of any sudden incident that would make the lion come to his door.

Morse tapped a rune with his fingertips, and the projection read the star language into it, and the regular text appeared in front of the Iron Lord.

"Perturabo: I will go to Ullanor," the lion wrote in the letter, and they seemed to be able to hear the cold tone of Lion El'Jonson.

"But I went there not to participate in any election. That is not what I can get, nor what I desire. The First Legion does not need a second title."

Morse said softly: "Oh, it's rare to see him have such a clear understanding."

"Similarly, if anyone between you and Horus Lupercal needs support, I will remain silent. If the Emperor needs someone to be elected, then the Emperor will be the only decision maker. He does not need our second approval, let alone our disobedience."

"I have no intention of going to the celebration of Ullanor, where there will be no Dark Angels mission. However, I think there is one thing you have the right to know."

"Before you set off for the murder star, Alpharius appeared in front of me with part of his legion, trying to persuade me to participate in the election of the warmaster with the excuse of an unnecessary help, and hinted that he would choose me as his candidate.

"He presumptuously speculated that I was eager for the position of the warmaster, and at the same time provoked the relationship between you, me and Horus Lupercal, intending to make me compete with you.

"I didn't care about his temptations and lies at first, but after that, I began to be confused because I couldn't find the reason why he did it. To be more precise, I doubted his intentions.

"I know you are relatively familiar with Alpharius, so I hope to discuss his problem with you in person in Ullanor. - Lion El'Jonson"

Perturabo stared at the words and pressed his lips down.

Soon after, he spoke: "But before I went to the murder star, I could confirm that Alpharius himself was in the Kronos Expansion. "

"Is it Omegan?" They said almost at the same time.