Warhammer: From Planetary Governor

The door at the corner of the corridor is embedded with a Type I emblem with a skull.

That is the emblem of the Imperial Church.

Behind the door, a passage several meters long extends, and the walls are covered with reliefs of saints suffering and saving the world.

Each relief is lifelike, as if telling a sacred and immortal legend.

It makes people stand in awe.

Walking along the passage, there is a large prayer room dedicated to the Emperor's shrine. The interior is filled with incense and candlelight, illuminating the white sacred skull tower and the Emperor's statue.

It looks a little flashy.

It is somewhat out of tune with the rusty environment outside.

At this moment.

There are quite a few people in the prayer room.

After praying, these veterans of the Astra Militarum sat around the brazier in the hall and told their service experiences.

See whose service career is more legendary.

The old priest listened beside him with a scepter, his face full of kind smile.

It is undoubtedly a sacred ceremony for believers to tell their loyalty and achievements to the great and benevolent Emperor.

He just needs to listen quietly.

"Maybe others don't know, but I have seen those abominations, they really exist."

It was a Cadian veteran wearing green carapace armor with white marks on the shoulders and a rough voice: "If you have been to my hometown Cadia, of course there is no chance now..."

He stared at the brazier, with a trace of sadness in his eyes.

The other veterans were silent.

They all knew that the veteran's homeland, Cadia, had been destroyed by the heretics in the Eye of Terror.

The Cadian veteran paused and continued:

"If you have been there before, you will know what it means to be a real soldier for all the people. I was born in the first line of defense against the Chaos heretics, and I was born to fight those heretic demons to the death!

Since I can remember, I have followed my father and brothers to use the laser rifles I assembled to hunt those humans corrupted by Chaos.

I joined the Astra Militarum at the age of eighteen, and fought more than ten battles of various sizes in various places according to the orders of the Empire. I have served for thirty Terra years.

The only regret is that I did not participate in the last battle of Cadia and did not die in my homeland!"

"We will eliminate those damn heretics sooner or later."

Seeing that the Cadian veteran was in a low mood, the storm soldier Delainin of the Conserquit Guards raised his mechanical hand and patted the other's shoulder, and the rest of the Astra Militarum also respected the veteran.

"It's my turn."

A Catachan tough guy wearing ordinary military uniforms, a red scarf on his head, and super muscular took a sip of inferior wine.

He said sullenly:

"We in Catachan are damn bad, the jungle is full of dangers, of course, those screaming wheat and biting fruits taste really good."

The Catachan tough guy played with his hunting knife: "I lived in the jungle until I became an adult, then joined the jungle warriors and followed the troops to the outside of the jungle.

It's really safe outside.

Even the battlefield is safer than the jungle, and I can sleep well without worrying about being eaten by a damn tree.

In the past ten years of service, I have killed greenskins, faced Chaos demons, and followed the legion all the way to here..."

Hearing this.

The soldiers couldn't help but exclaimed.

Afterwards.

Several veterans of the Astra Militarum came out to talk about their service careers.

Delainin was a little absent-minded.

He moved his mechanical arm, and it seemed that the machine soul of this thing was a little unhappy.

This expensive creation cost him five thousand throne coins, which was almost all his belongings at the time.

He was angry in his heart:

"That damn black-hearted oil man must have cut corners and gave me a low-quality mechanical arm, which is probably a second-hand product taken from a corpse!"

Fortunately, before leaving, Delaining secretly picked up a lot of good things from the oil man with the brothers of Conserquit, so it was not a big loss.

To be more precise, it made a small profit.

There is no way.

Conserquit Guards is too poor.

It was formed in violation of regulations and has a bad record.

The Military Affairs Department once only gave them company-level supplies and sent them to large-scale battles full of monsters and demons in various parts of the empire.

In an attempt to bury this illegal legion.

But the Conserquit Guards still survived under such circumstances. Even at the end of the 42nd millennium, there were still 20 regiment-level troops, about 200,000 people.

It is a legendary existence in the Star Army.

However, this legend has a bit of a derogatory meaning.

They had almost no morale, they were simply the kings of survival, the emperor's angels on the run, occasionally doing some sneaky things to supplement military supplies.

The first lesson for new recruits is to teach them how to survive in a dangerous battlefield.

Including finding suitable hidden obstacles, lying posture, judging which enemy is the most dangerous, how to hide, etc.

The head of the regiment even said bluntly.

These life-saving experiences are the most valuable wealth of their Concerquit.

The local military affairs department is very disgusted with these old-timers and indestructible cockroaches, but they can't do anything about it.

After all, they did obey orders and fought in the most dangerous battlefield.

"Brother, it's your turn!"

Delaining's shoulders sank suddenly, and the big hand of the Catachan man patted him.

He looked up, and everyone's eyes looked over.

It seems that he must say something.

Delaining moved the mechanical arm again and said lightly:

"I am a veteran of the 14th Guards of the Conserquitt Regiment. I have served for fifteen years and participated in more than twenty battles. I have faced almost all known enemies of the Empire.

Before boarding this ship, we followed the Emperor's angels to wipe out a group of Chaos pirates who invaded the Imperial planet. I was lucky enough to kill a Chaos warrior with a hot melt weapon..."

With a buzz.

The crowd was in turmoil, and people's faces were full of surprise and admiration.

Killing a Chaos Space Marine with a mortal body is already a legendary achievement for the Astra Militarum.

"Praise the Emperor, your soul will return to the throne!"

The old priest couldn't help but exclaimed, blessing the Conserquitt Stormtrooper with great military exploits.

Everyone agreed that the Conserquitt Stormtrooper's service career was the most legendary.

Deserving the respect of everyone.

Delenin didn't react much to this.

He would never say it.

The molten ray was accidentally fired off the target, destroying the head of the Chaos Space Marine who was about to fall to the ground, and stealing the merit of the Emperor's Angel.

What's more.

The people of their Concerquitt regiment don't care much about these honors.

The competition within the Guards is about who can survive better, and who can survive longer. Veterans like him who have only experienced more than 20 battles can't even rank inside.

In fact.

It was also a coincidence that Delainen boarded this ship to participate in an unknown battle.

After their company finished the battle, they went to the local planet to recuperate and treat their injuries, and by the way, see if they can get some military supplies.

However.

He and his brothers were lying in the hospital bed.

Suddenly, the commander of the Military Affairs Department came and forcibly recruited them all and stuffed them into this ship.

Not only that.

Those commanders of the Military Affairs Department even took away the local security forces.

Based on his own experience, Delainen judged that there might be a special military situation somewhere, which required rapid support from troops.

So he urgently recruited this group of soldiers.

They didn't even pick and choose, just stuffed everyone in.

Now he just hoped that he could survive this war, leave this hellhole with his brothers, and return to the Guards.

Just when everyone was praising Delainin.

"Brother, you don't seem to have spoken yet?"

The Katachan tough guy suddenly found a short figure sitting in the corner, never speaking.

The soldier was wearing a thick coat, holding a complicated spear in his arms, and his helmet and gas mask tightly wrapped his face.

Always kept silent.

He suggested: "Tell everyone about your service career..."

"Yes, tell everyone!"

The veterans cheered, hoping to know the soldier's service experience.

However.

The soldier seemed a little uncomfortable and still didn't speak.

The Katachan tough guy walked over, warmly put his arm around the soldier's shoulders, and invited him to drink his strong liquor.

The strong liquor seemed to work.

The soldier finally spoke, his tone was a bit stiff:

"I... I am a new soldier, and my service experience is very short. I participated in actual combat training in the radioactive dust of Krieg before, and I have only officially served for two years.

I have only fought one battle..."

"It's okay, we all grew up slowly from rookies!"

The tough guy Katachang tried to comfort the Krieg soldier and took good care of the shy soldier.

In order not to make the atmosphere dull.

He continued to ask: "I heard that you Krieg people are very powerful. Tell everyone about the battle you fought. Did you kill one or two enemies?"

The Krieg soldier tried to organize his words: "I can't remember... The commander said it was an apocalyptic battle..."

Hearing this.

The atmosphere in the hall became silent.

Everyone stared with wide eyes, looking shocked.

These veterans who have fought for many years have almost heard of the apocalyptic war from some legendary stories or rumors.

That is almost the most difficult and highest level war faced by the empire. Those who can survive the apocalyptic war are the most glorious warriors.

This is true for mortal legions, space marines, imperial knights, and Titan pilots!

If life is the currency of the Emperor, then the Apocalypse-level war is a money-shredding factory.

Under normal circumstances.

When mortal troops enter the Apocalypse-level battlefield, each person will receive a battery, a laser rifle, and a hot melt grenade.

There is no need for any tactics, no intelligence, no instructions, and no need to know what the enemy is.

There is no need to aim.

Because the sky and the earth are filled with enemies.

If they can empty the battery, they will be a first-class merit, if they can throw out the hot melt grenade, they will be a combat hero, and if they can survive for half a day, they will be a veteran of a hundred battles.

Those regimental-level troops will fight bloody battles with the enemy in positions full of nuclear radiation and biological and chemical poisonous gases, and destructive missiles will bombard the battlefield indiscriminately.

The expected life span of each regimental-level unit is six hours.

However, in battle.

They received orders to resist the enemy for fifteen minutes, and a new regiment will come to replace them after fifteen minutes.

But in reality.

Before the new regiment arrives, these soldiers often die.

The new regiments that arrived could only continue to fight on the charred corpses washed by nuclear bombs, which had already piled up several layers.

Soon,

they would become the latest layer.

The mortal legions in the trenches could see this scene:

In space.

The fleets' exchange of fire never stopped. The light of macro cannons and rays of light lit up the void. Every minute, warships could be seen turning into dazzling fireworks.

When the fleets exchanged fire fiercely, there was no chance to replenish ammunition. They could only drive their ships into the enemy and perish together with the enemy.

In the atmosphere.

Various fighter planes and enemy flying forces fought each other. Lasers, missiles, and shells filled the sky, forming new clouds of gunpowder. Fighters fell like raindrops every moment.

On the ground.

Super-heavy tanks were clustered everywhere, and even the Emperor-class Titans and multiple-level Titan formations could be seen in the distance. That was the power gathered by more than ten or twenty Titan Orders.

But even a divine machine like a Titan could not hold on for too long, and fell one after another.

Closer.

Many imperial knights were fighting, several knight families had been collectively killed, and more knight families were coming.

The Emperor's angels, the most powerful genetically modified bodies of mankind - Space Marines were destroyed in batches. Several regiments were sent to the battlefield, but no news was brought back.

The battle sisters, one temple after another, were sent in without any splash.

Even the great living saints fell from mid-air.

Then they were resurrected and sent to the battlefield.

No one knew what happened in the core battlefield.

As the battle continued.

The armored forces of the Astra Militarum were reduced to scrap metal at a rate of thousands, and the roar of artillery occupied all space, so that the mortals on the battlefield lost their hearing.

The precious Scorpion Tailed Lion missiles were launched in batches, and the Death Strike missiles removed the safety and bombed any possible area without hesitation.

The Astra Militarum counted in units of 100 million.

The casualties of each wave of defense were recorded in millions, and countless mortals turned into insignificant dust on the battlefield.

When the war reached a fierce moment.

No one responded to the request for orbital bombardment, and there was no need, because the explosions caused by the wreckage of warships and fighter planes were more intensive than orbital bombardment.

The sages of the Mechanicus have begun to use any possible illegal or even heretical technology, poison gas, radiation, space black holes, no one cares about these.

No one even knows what happened.

What's more.

These sages will not live to see the arrival of judgment.

On the battlefield.

Those veterans who have survived for more than three hours will even see any possible scene.

Brutal killing metal men, chaos demigods, screaming demons, demon engines, and endless aliens.

The influx of war machines and the wreckage of fallen ships has increased the mass of the planet. The terrain of the planet has changed in the endless bombing, the mountains have been wiped out, and the oceans have evaporated.

Even the climate has changed.

The hemisphere, which is in winter and covered with ice and snow, has turned red, and the temperature has risen sharply, making the armored soldiers who have just arrived and are wearing thick cotton jackets curse with heat.

When the war reached the middle and late stages, both sides had no idea what to do. They just mechanically attacked any enemy and then died.

Everyone just attacked numbly.

If they were lucky.

Some veterans of the Astra Militarum could see a bigger scene.

The core battlefield had spread to this place.

The ancient and sacred legends in the legends of the Empire - the Grand Master of the Grey Knights, the Master of the Star Wars, the Emperor's Champion, the Emperor's Chosen, and even the great Primarchs, were fighting for their lives with equal enemies.

Those veterans would even find that they were less than ten meters away from those great beings, and could clearly see the sacred runes on their armor and their resolute faces stained with blood.

This was the closest step to the legend.

Then, the veterans often became insane because they saw too hateful Chaos beings, or died in the aftermath of the battle between the great beings.

Even so, they played their due value and had a legendary life.

At least he didn't die like those unlucky guys who just arrived at the battlefield and didn't see what the enemy looked like, and his soul was pulled into the terrible warp.

The battle of the great existence continued, and more troops were filling in. No one knew the outcome of this war, and could only pray for the Emperor's blessing.

This is an apocalyptic war, which will determine the fate of a star zone, a star field, and even the empire!

Any warrior who survived the apocalyptic war is undoubtedly a walking legend of the empire, and will be praised and respected by everyone.

In the prayer room hall.

After several minutes of shock and silence, the veterans of the Astra Militarum cheered deafeningly, and at the same time gave warm applause and praise to the Krieg warrior.

He is undoubtedly the most legendary existence here.

They walked up one by one and gave the Sky Eagle Salute to the warrior who survived the apocalyptic war.

Then hugged him.

The Krieg warrior was a little overwhelmed, and stood there a little stiffly.

In his eyes, any war is the same.

The Kriegs were born for war, never retreating or surrendering, fearing no death, and disregarding their own lives. They were only weapons of the Emperor's will.

And they took self-sacrifice as their highest ideal.

For this Krieg warrior, he was just participating in a war in accordance with the Emperor's will.

In the future, he will participate in more wars until he falls on the battlefield one day.

To realize the ultimate value of life.

All this is not glory, but destiny.

The company commander who was listening silently at the door came in, saluted the soldier, and personally lit a precious cigarette made in Terra for him.

Other veterans of the Astra Militarum also presented gifts.

The old priest came over, piously recited the blessing scriptures for the Krieg soldier, and gave him a plasma pistol blessed by the state religion.

Delainin, who has always been stingy, also stepped forward and gave Krieg a gemstone pocket watch.

He got it from the concubine of a planetary governor.

For this matter.

It almost caused a battle between their company and the local security forces.

Suddenly, Delainin thought of something, his face became serious, and even a little pale.

He looked at the Krieg soldier and asked, "Brother, why are you here?"

Under normal circumstances.

Such a veteran who has experienced an apocalyptic war would not easily be in the same place with them.

As the honor and elite veterans of the Astra Militarum, they often only appear in the most dangerous or equal-level battlefields.

This was said.

Everyone in the hall also fell silent.

The Krieg warrior did not realize the change in the atmosphere, and simply and directly replied as if to an order: "The commander's order, he said we are going to follow a great existence and fight a more difficult battle!"

There was no fear in his words, as if he was talking about an ordinary thing.

A more difficult war?

After he finished speaking, the veterans of the Astra Militarum realized something and turned pale.

The hall was as quiet as death, and only the crackling sound of the special fragrant wood burning in the brazier could be heard.

Click.

The company commander trembled and picked up a Terran cigarette, lit it and took a deep puff, without even exhaling the smoke.

The Cadian veteran sat back and silently wiped the laser rifle he assembled; the Catachan tough guy drank up the strong liquor in the kettle, took out the sanding cloth, and polished the hunting knife over and over again.

The old priest held on to his staff, supported himself and walked to the shrine, knelt down, and prayed devoutly to the Emperor.

Seeing that no one was talking, the Krieg warrior finally breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down.

Keep quiet.

"It's over, this time it's an apocalyptic war!"

Delainin almost slid to the ground, his eyes dull: "Why am I so unlucky?"

He felt that he would not survive this time. Being able to survive for an hour or two on such a battlefield was already a blessing from the Emperor.

After all, in the historical documents of the Conserquit Guards, three regiments had participated in apocalyptic wars at different times.

None of them came back alive!

He didn't think he would be better than those more experienced predecessors.

Delainin's guess was correct.

The Empire defined the Battle of Baal as an apocalyptic war, and the most dangerous one.

After all, Baal had to face the most powerful Tyranid Hive Fleet in the galaxy, and there was no room for maneuver.

As soon as they retreated.

The Leviathan Hive Fleet will threaten the life of the entire star field, and even develop to the point where the Empire is completely unable to resist.

The fate of mankind will slide into a darker abyss.

In this case.

Regent Guilliman and Savior Roan, the two Primarchs, had to face the Tyranid Swarm together to deal with this terrifying threat.

It can be said that.

This is one of the most important wars in the Empire in recent years.

What's more troublesome is.

The Empire has no way to provide more support, and can only forcibly recruit hundreds of millions of soldiers to send over.

In order to quickly recruit enough soldiers.

The Military Affairs Department even executed a group of slow recruiters, and then issued a death order to the rest of the recruiters.

Under layers of pressure and time constraints, the recruiters can only do everything they can to recruit any troops that can reach Baal in order to save their lives.

There is now a chaotic scene of several legions crowded on the same ship.

And these troop transport ships are not only soldiers, but also a large number of ignorant Imperial citizens.

They were forcibly recruited in various ways, and some unlucky ones were dragged away in their sleep.

For those recruiters, as long as they gathered enough people, they could complete the task.

The Military Affairs Department also turned a blind eye.

Whether it was the Astra Militarum or the Imperial Citizens, there was not much difference on such a battlefield. As long as the Imperial Citizens could pull the trigger and throw out the melta grenade, it was enough.

Killing one or two aliens was a blood profit.

Even with flesh and blood, they could slightly delay the pace of the Zerg and allow the bombing troops to arrive.

They also played their due role.

The atmosphere in the hall became more and more solemn.

Suddenly, the company commander's serious voice sounded:

"I remind you that no one here is allowed to disclose this matter, otherwise you may be judged..."

He warned these veterans to keep the secret to prevent the news from being spread in advance.

Causing panic within the army.

In fact.

Many of the Empire's troops participating in the Apocalypse-level war knew nothing before arriving on the battlefield.

They didn't even know what battle they were fighting in until they died.

They only knew that they had won.

The survivors of these troops only realized how great their achievements were when they participated in the celebration ceremony and received commendations.

Trillions of humans survive because of their bravery.

The veterans nodded silently. This was the right thing to do. Now that they were on this ship, they could only go all the way.

not to mention.

During their many years of service, they have long been prepared to die. It is an honor to die on such a battlefield.

Gradually.

Company commanders and veterans left one after another.

Delainen stamped his numb legs and moved to kneel down next to the old priest with difficulty.

He turned to look at the old priest, his voice trembling: "You...can you help me pray to the emperor, just say that loyal believers pray for his blessing..."

The stormtrooper felt that the priest's prayers were more effective.

If his heart is black, the great and benevolent Emperor may not pay attention to him.

…

soon.

The atmosphere on the entire troop transport ship became increasingly tense.

The quartermaster led the troops to distribute weapons to the soldiers, imperial citizens, and slave workers. Even the old madman near the church was stuffed with a laser rifle.

The lower deck is infested with fleas, and there are dozens of people in a low-level cabin with only one toilet.

The former citizens of the empire who had been hauled onto the ship in a daze, and now the new recruits were increasingly frightened.

They can only hold their laser rifles and pray for the emperor's blessing...

Inside the bridge.

The young commander sat in his seat, meditating quietly. An unbearable tense atmosphere had already filled the ship.

suddenly.

The correspondent received a message from the fleet under the command of the Great Savior, the Primarch of Hope.

They warned of possible Tyranid risks nearby and said a fleet would come to respond.

However.

Shortly after the communication ended.

This small troop transport fleet was completely covered by a huge shadow...