Warhammer: Start with a dog

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"What are you doing?!"

The war blacksmith was stunned for two seconds and jumped up like a dog whose face was scratched by a cat.

Then, like any man who had endured a long time and was suddenly attacked, he snarled and clenched his fists, but finally pulled them apart and slapped the prophetess, who looked extremely surprised.

"you……"

Obviously, Moliana had not met or fought against the Chaos warlords who came to seek help, including the warmaster who was about to lead his Thirteenth Dark Crusade.

But Honso's reaction was obviously beyond her expectation. She didn't expect Honso's reaction to be so..."real".

He looked like he was simply angry because he had been teased and hurt, but he was not attacking her because of the uncontrollable anger. Astartes' self-control and pain tolerance could not be so high. weak……

In the midst of the lightning and flint, she hurriedly read out a few words. The psychic thunderbolts in the air stabbed at him insidiously from behind the war blacksmith. At the same time, a stench like a dead corpse filled the air - to be honest, this made the war blacksmith. The slap like a cattail fan became a little more firm - and then the next second when Moliana's incredible expression appeared in the flesh of her deformed face after being slapped, the reckless young man really slapped the prophetess. Fly out.

"I curse you! You little bastard! How dare you do this to me! Warsmith Honsou!" she shouted hoarsely and resentfully, hatred radiating from the old woman's deep-set eyes. She raised her hand, and the power of this place gathered into her bird-clawed hands, using the blood of the Iron Warrior as a medium to cast the most vicious curse that any thinking creature could think of on this bastard who dared to slap her. "This is the backlash you're going to suffer!"

The few remaining drops of blood were surrounded by her ancient power, suspended in the air, and dyed black by the cursed subspace poison. The two people in the cave stared at the drop of black blood, but nothing happened.

"Praise the unspeakable name, praise the Lord of Steel." A hearty laugh burst out from the other side, "It seems that your witchcraft is no longer effective on me!"

The Potion Master's facial muscles relaxed visibly, while Moliana's face was filled with the panic of being rejected from her fate. Both of them realized one thing, if she was prepared for Honso's If the curse does not take effect, then, no matter how similar it is, "this Honso" is not "the Honso" that Moliana has been waiting for.

Although this difference made him feel a little wrong before "breaking his face", it did not make the witch suspicious too much, thinking that it was just some subtle influence.

She raised her head in astonishment and looked at the tall giant standing in front of her. Honso's light blue eyes were now shining with a pleasant, pure and malicious light. The thick medical mechanical arm behind him emerged from the burqa that had been hidden. He reached out, grabbed the prophetess like a little chicken, and lifted her to a height where she could face the Potion Master without getting too close.

"What do you think will happen next? Caterina Moliana?"

The witch spat at him angrily, but a thin layer of standing light blocked the turbid liquid and burned it until it was completely burned out.

"You are so disgustingly dirty! I'm fed up with the terrible pollution here! I told Vannas before that I was not bound by any vision or opinion, but I just realized that I was not bound by any vision or opinion before. I'm kidding myself," the Potion Master said briskly. "As soon as I discovered the coordinates here, I should have just walked in like this, lifted you up, you pretentious old woman, and shaken me out, instead of patiently waiting here. After accompanying you in this classic fairy tale of the witch in the forest, you still have to scratch my face! This is me! Not the Hong Suo who is still afraid of facing an unknown fate deep down!"

"Who are you?!" Moliana screamed, "You are Honso, but you are not Honso! This is impossible! You are indeed Honso! I clearly saw it! Those things on your body that have been touched are so... The power of gods and inanimate beings! Are you Hong Suo?"

"You have so many questions. But you haven't even answered my questions yet."

There were some very slight mechanical movements coming from the depths of the Potion Master's arm armor, and the prophetess' empty eyes widened in fear.

What flickered in the firelight was a soft, tube-like metal mechanical tentacle. The calyx-like split head contained obvious nerve needles and other micro-medical devices. It flexibly extended from the back of Honso's hand along the five fingers, and on the fingers. The tip continues to divide and form more soft, tiny needle-like insertable suckers. She started screaming.

"No, you can't do this! You can't do this to me! Not even Rogal Dorn..."

Hong Suo's hand that was about to put on the back of her head suddenly stopped, and his light blue eyes stared at Moliana again.

"Aren't you ashamed, Caterina Moliana, or that other lady?" he said slowly, "that you serve your god, your truth, and the tools of chaos you know. After so many years, your prophecies have guided and helped them kill so many of his descendants, but at this moment the first name you think of to use to protect yourself is still his."

She suddenly realized that these blue eyes were being reflected by the purple witch fire in her hiding place, and now they looked neither blue nor purple, like...

"Who are you?"

The old woman asked again, this time gently.

"I am Honso. Iron Warrior. Son of two strangers. Son of mutual enemies. Son of genes from two fathers. The only bloodline of forgotten victims and unknown heroes of betrayal, murder and defilement."

The other party replied, continuing to put the armored hand on the back of the witch's head.

The ancient witch felt the dulled nerves on her aging skin transmitting many dense and fragmented tingling pains to her, followed by the sharp pain of cold chemical burning. The invading probe began to outline the shape of every important nerve and groove in her brain under the skin, just like using a spike rake to turn up the sediment on the seabed, so that the relevant knowledge and memory fragments stored in her consciousness floated to the surface of consciousness and were read by the other party's cerebral cortex scanning probe.

"Who are you..." Moriana muttered with her last concentration of consciousness, "You will die...?"

"That doesn't matter."

The master of potions replied.

His thoughts drove the built-in system of his power armor to work. The prophetess' body arched violently due to the invasive surgery on her head. She stayed in the air like a patient with epilepsy. She opened her mouth and screamed silently. The ripples of the subspace spread from behind the curtain into the cave. Dust, debris and even human skin scrolls were blown out.

Hong Suo was unmoved. Only the medical equipment was still flashing and working.

From under her loose and pale skin with age spots covering her bones, tiny earthworm-like traces bulged. They continued to wriggle. They were the medical probe cables that invaded the skull and took over the brain. After searching for a long time, the master of medicine finally found the information he wanted and mercifully stopped stirring the witch's brain.

Before leaving the cave, he thought for a while, sorted out the surrounding environment, and began to implant a brainwashing memory fragment into the witch who fainted from the pain.

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Varo Tigris sat up from his simple bed with sweat dripping.

The steel bed was hidden under the linen sheets. They were tightly connected by rivets and were very quiet, without any creaking sound that a wooden bed would make under heavy pressure.

The chief think tank of the Ultramarines looked out the window. The quiet moonlight sprinkled on the Hera Fortress and the harbor below. The market and the crowds that had been busy all day had already gone to sleep. Only a few entertainment venues had bonfires or electric candles lit in the courtyards.

Astarte's sensitive hearing sent the gentle lapping of the waves into Tigris' mind.

The omen of the dream just now... came again... Enemies coming from deep space, desecrated blue armor, a head with two horns laughing in the flames, three deaths and three resurrections, the scene of swallowing desecrated flesh and blood with a smile, and drinking the gift from the enemy monarch with the excommunicated rebels in front of the Hera Fortress...

The Chief Librarian stood up, opened the freezer, and poured himself a cup of iced fermented sweet tea. The cold and sweet liquid in his throat refreshed him.

He recalled the characteristics of those things that were particularly obvious in the omen just now.

The blue armor... may belong to the Ultramarines...

Flames, two horns, heads, death and resurrection... Will the ghost of the hateful Destroyer of Calth hover over Ultramar again?

A huge Gothic building with a beautiful cross-symmetrical layout. The central fortress is surrounded by tall spires embellished with beautiful gold statues, complex and elegant flying buttresses, and various towers and walls... A cathedral?

No, that's not right. In his dream, he also saw the reflection of the starlight. The beautiful ultramarine, ivory and golden paint layers that passed through his retina, combined with the lower building that looked like a reflection in the water, this was not a church built on the ground, but a flying fortress... a precious Ramirez-class star fortress, and it belonged to the Ultramarines.

Perhaps Lord Maneus hasn't gone to bed yet. He thought. I have to talk to him immediately.

Putting on a dull dark blue robe and pulling the edge of the robe over his head, the Chief Librarian took the staff and quietly left his room, passing silently by the solemn-looking Honor Guard and knocking on Calgar's door.

"It's so late, what happened? Tigris."

Calgar's warm blue-gray eyes looked at the visiting Librarian with some surprise, but immediately caught the urgency in the other's eyes.

"Come in and tell me."

Tigris nodded. The lights in the Chapter Master's room were dim. It was obvious that the Macragge Ruler was meditating or preparing to go to bed before his visit.

The first question the Chief Librarian asked after entering the room made Maneus Calgar's face change.

"My lord, although this is not my duty but the domain of the Fleet Master, can you tell me the whereabouts of all the Ramirez-class star fortresses in the current Chapter, and have you heard of a name, the Three Lives?"

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The Ramirez-class star fortress is a huge semi-mobile void fortress. The super plasma energy conduction technology it uses cannot be fully studied and understood by today's mechanical believers. However, thanks to its huge STC, it has not been lost throughout the turbulent years but has been miraculously preserved. The Empire can still build such a space fortress in a span of hundreds of years.

It has excellent and powerful firepower and reactors, but its ability to produce a plasma-like field that is large enough to wrap the entire star fortress for subspace navigation is its real horror and incomprehensibility. Usually, they will serve as an important node of a planetary defense system, a fortress monastery of a war group, a watchtower of the Death Watch, or a deep space facility for the Inquisition and the Mechanicus to conduct research or other purposes in places where they do not want to be discovered. Since it has four quadrants and docks, and each part can operate independently, it is also suitable and common to tow it directly as an exploration, bombing position and fleet frontier port for the Imperial Navy.

In short, few Chaos warbands or pirates would plan an action against the Ramirez-class star fortress, because the maximum number of weapons and personnel that a normal fleet ship can carry is far from enough to break and board such a fortress, which would only make them become new space fireworks ignited by the star fortress defense system in vain. Similarly, few Ramirez-class star fortresses would constantly sail and make subspace jumps, because such behavior is usually unnecessary and not worth the cost. Usually, it is much more appropriate to send one or even several fleets for such a sailing mission.

And if someone really wants to let such a behemoth perform random subspace jumps within a designated range every nine days in space, in most cases, they will definitely be strongly protested and accused of being a meaningless prodigal.

Because to do this, it would take more than a dozen of the best navigators and their ships, hundreds of tug barges to tow the star fortress, countless fleets and other manpower to provide logistical supplies for all ships and personnel, in addition to the guards of the star fortress itself, and all these precious resources that are enough to fight a major battle will be wasted in constant and boring navigation throughout the voyage cycle, rather than being deployed in actions that need them more.

But if such a will comes from Lord Macragge himself, then it has meaning and will certainly be executed and served accordingly.

At Mandeville Point, an uninhabited planetary system in the farthest corner of the Ultramar system where no commercial or military routes pass, the "Indomitable" Ramirez-class star fortress and its accompanying fleet are slowly beginning to reveal their true appearance from behind the veil of the warp.