Communication ended.
After Calgar reached out and closed the window, he sat back down in his command chair.
The tactical holographic projection opened, showing him the deployment of both friendly and enemy forces throughout the Charadon system.
The Primarch had already completed the strategic deployment; he only needed to act according to orders.
"Lock onto the ork Battle Moon," Calgar said.
Accompanying his order, the cogitators and savant arrays simultaneously trembled.
Indicator lights placed on the deceased bodies flashed rapidly, incredibly urgent.
Massive amounts of data were frantically pouring into the dead brains of the cogitators.
The program logic code, long ago etched by the Adeptus Mechanicus, ran within these dead brains, allowing these sinners to continue serving the Imperium in a different way.
The data was parsed and distributed, finally presenting itself again as images, appearing before Calgar.
The holographic interface displayed the cosmic scale of hundreds of millions of kilometers.
In the display of such a magnificent cosmic structure, all details and structures of the target were hidden from view.
On the spherical coordinate system with the Heavenly Punishment Colossus as the origin, the Battle Moon located in the Charadon system, comparable to a natural satellite, was only the size of a fist.
A red halo appeared in the projection, turning into a noose that encircled the Battle Moon.
A red dashed line connected the Emperor's Wrath Colossus, indicating the attack trajectory of the impending annihilation beam.
"Star Destroyer Cannon, charge."
After Calgar completed the target lock operation, he issued a new order.
"Target locked, Star Destroyer Cannon charging."
The communications officer shouted into the communication window before him, relaying the War Lord's order to every department of the Heavenly Punishment Colossus.
The Emperor's Wrath Colossus was over a thousand kilometers in diameter alone; what a magnificent creation it was.
This was a mobile asteroid.
It was the pinnacle of human technology.
Inside and on the surface of the Colossus, stood giant cities.
These cities were not for habitation.
Instead, they were power reactors used to supply energy to the ship.
They were simply so vast that they looked like cities.
The Colossus housed a total of two hundred giant plasma reactors, each comparable to a city, to power the Star Destroyer Cannon.
Those massive mechanical installations stretched endlessly, like metal mountain ranges, astonishing in their grandeur and awe-inspiring.
Standing before those machines, hundreds or even thousands of meters tall, even the pilots who controlled the God-Machines - the Titans - would lament their own insignificance.
As Calgar's order was given, the energy conduits and indicator devices all roared to life.
The ground trembled slightly, and indicator lights flickered throughout the Colossus.
The crew members all began running, maintaining the equipment in their respective areas.
Officers whipped the careless and slow crew members, urging them to work hard and diligently.
They were just small cogs and screws in the vast war machine, utterly unaware of how magnificent the Heavenly Punishment Colossus was when operating at full power.
From outer space, one could see the main energy conduits, comparable to mountain ranges, running through the entire Heavenly Punishment Colossus, collecting energy from the various energy cities and transmitting it to the Star Destroyer Cannon.
"Energy input normal, currently 100% charged," a technical expert with a metallic face reported to Calgar.
"Output power normal, Star Destroyer Cannon ready," the Weapon Officer, dressed in a crisp uniform, said.
A small group of tech-priests, holding metallic staves, their bodies sparking with electricity, chanted hymns using their mechanical, monotonous vocalizers.
"Praise the Omnissiah, praise the wisdom of the Emperor, praise the machine spirit of the Emperor's Wrath Colossus."
"Fire!" Calgar roared.
He would crush that Battle Moon for the Primarch, proving the Primarch's authority and majesty to the world.
The Engine Master gripped the throttle lever before him with one hand, while his other hand adjusted navigation parameters on the hovering tactical screen.
Surrounding him were eight hardened glass tanks.
Inside were humans, only their upper halves, immersed in nutrient fluid.
The hair of these humans had been shaved off, and their bare cerebral cortices were connected to a large number of neural cables.
Those cables extended from the sealed tops of the glass tanks, connecting to the power control console.
The eight glass tanks formed a savant array.
When navigation data was sent to the savant array, these human computers emitted beeping sounds, performing rapid binary calculations.
The Colossus was so vast that it even possessed its own gravitational field.
Its movements had to be careful and cautious.
Otherwise, it could cause damage to friendly vessels.
"Gravity parameters normal, stellar gravity parameters data model constructed, celestial gravity calculated, correct orbital data obtained."
A speaker placed above the savant array broadcast the mechanical, emotionless results.
"Advance," the Engine Master slowly pushed the throttle lever forward, bringing the Colossus into combat range.
At the front of the Colossus, three towering metal spires emitted intense light, incredibly brilliant, blazing brightly.
The Imperial vessels at the rendezvous point also began maneuvering according to the strategy pre-arranged by the Primarch, escorting the two Colossi.
The Imperium's series of actions made it very clear to the orks that a crisis was imminent.
Large numbers of ork vessels swarmed out of the Battle Moon, rushing towards the Heavenly Punishment Colossi like locusts, but were always unable to break through the outer defenses established by the Imperial fleet.
**Target has entered attack range, Star Destroyer Cannon strike will commence in 10 seconds**
The mechanical broadcast echoed throughout all Imperial vessels, resounding in every communication channel.
Allowing everyone to witness a moment worthy of being recorded in history.
**10**
**9**
**8**
**7**
**6**
**5**
**4**
**3**
**2**
**1**
As the countdown reached zero, the three metal spires simultaneously erupted with a brilliant, blazing light, converging to form a giant sphere of light.
The entire dark void was illuminated, the sphere of light as bright as a supernova explosion.
Not only were many high-ranking officers in the Imperial fleet astonished, but even the orks were stunned.
The light was so intense that no living being could look directly at it, lest their eyes be burned by the glare.
Even the fabric of spacetime trembled, as if about to be torn apart.
Within just a few breaths, the sphere of light reached its critical point.
The sphere of light transformed into a pillar of light, reaching from heaven to earth, carrying an aura of endless destruction, and shot forth.
Nothing could stand in the path of this pillar of light.
Ork vessels several kilometers long were instantly vaporized by the pillar of light, leaving not even wreckage behind.
Only a few mournful screams echoed in the ork fleet's communication channels, marking their brief existence.
The pillar of light swept away all warships that dared to obstruct its path with irresistible force.
With the might of an unstoppable powerhouse, a single shot penetrated deep into the orks' big, round Battle Moon.
That hot, thick pillar of light made the entire Battle Moon tremble uncontrollably.
The metal surface was torn apart, the pillar of light brutally pierced deep into the Battle Moon's core, hitting the ork WAAAGH energy pile.
The massive explosion caused by hitting the energy pile tore the entire Battle Moon apart.
Countless terrifying, bottomless fissures appeared on the surface of the Battle Moon.
Blazing plasma flames erupted from within, and a chain of explosions erupted on the Battle Moon, like blooming fiery flowers.
Large amounts of wreckage and orks were thrown into outer space by the violent explosions.
The most important part of the Battle Moon was the WAAAGH energy pile.
The orks' energy pile was completely different from other energy piles; it not only had physical laws but also some power from their minds and beliefs.
It was precisely through the WAAAGH of countless orks that this giant war moon could take shape.
A single shot from the Heavenly Punishment Colossus directly crippled the Battle Moon.
The explosion of the energy pile tore apart this massive war machine; it became a pile of scrap metal.
When the Battle Moon was crippled, becoming shattered fragments.
Victory in the void battle was already secured for humanity.
The ork vessels were utterly unable to resist the human iron might and were completely torn apart.
Dozens of Imperial fleet battle groups surrounded the Charadon system from all directions, forming a giant net.
The ork vessels were lambs waiting to be slaughtered within the giant net.
The Imperium systematically slaughtered the ork fleet.
No matter how the orks roared, it was futile.
The encirclement lasted for a week, during which countless flashes appeared in the void.
The ork fleet and void fortresses in the Charadon system were, after all, the entire fortune of an ork Warboss.
The number of ships, void fortresses, and weapon platforms was countless.
The Imperial captains could only see a dense mass of red dots on the holographic projection.
When the last ork warship was torn apart, the void battlefield fell silent.
Within a range spanning hundreds of millions of kilometers, massive amounts of ork warship debris floated.
Large numbers of ork corpses turned into ice sculptures, silent in the void, lifelike.
However, victory had not truly arrived yet.
Only by completely capturing the ork Warboss' home world, Charadon, and hanging the head of that arsonist on the prow of the Macragge's Glory would everything truly end.
The war oath had already been spoken before the war began, and Guilliman did not repeat it.
Numerous means of transporting primaris space marines to the surface, such as Stormravens, Thunderhawks, Drop Pods, and warp translation, were all ready.
Over forty thousand primaris space marines would all be transported to the surface.
Several Emperor-class Titans had also completed their pre-battle checks.
The Knights also shouted their oaths and mounted their Knight Titans, suitable for single-person operation, waiting to be deployed to the battlefield.
Millions of Astra Militarum troops were also ready for battle, vowing to completely eradicate the orks, this cancerous growth, for the Imperium.
Guilliman's holographic image appeared on various warships.
He did not speak many pre-battle oaths.
Only one word.
"Purge."
Accompanying his words, the full-scale general assault commenced.
Tens of thousands of Stormravens, Thunderhawks, and Drop Pods took off from the hangars, flying towards the surface of Charadon.
The fleet also launched strikes simultaneously, countless lances, torpedoes, and missiles were unleashed upon the planet.
The entire planet's atmosphere was colored with the vibrant hues of destruction by the escaping energy.
However, completely destroying the planet Charadon and strangling the ork chieftain was by no means a simple matter.
The entire planet was wrapped in layers of force field technology that the Adeptus Mechanicus could not decipher.
Making bombardment of the surface almost infeasible.
Cannons capable of destroying several cities with a single shot could only leave slight scars on the rust-covered surface of this planet.
Molten bombs and mass drivers capable of tearing apart entire continents were detonated in mid-air before they even reached the ground.
The lethal radiation from high-yield concentrated nuclear warheads dissipated into the air, their half-life, originally tens of thousands of years, shortened to mere hours.
Even virus bombs were unable to exert their intended effect, the viral strains completely destroyed by the orks through some unknown means.
The Imperium could only meet them head-on, fighting to the death to destroy this massive planet.
Guilliman surveyed the battlefronts across Charadon, his gaze heavy.
The destruction of the Battle Moon had dealt the orks a heavy blow, but for the orks, this was not a fatal strike.
Facing the fierce onslaught of the Imperium's iron fist, the orks still possessed the strength to resist.
Imperial aircraft were torn apart in the sky, and soldiers who landed died in the encirclement.
Even primaris space marines found it difficult to withstand the overwhelming green tide of orks.
Guilliman felt little emotion regarding this; death was unavoidable.
No one could guarantee zero casualties in war.
The general assault lasted for a day, yet the human airborne operations had not achieved much victory, merely establishing a foothold on the ground.
Both sides were locked in a stalemate.
Ending this war would likely require an extremely long time.
Trying to outlast the orks in a war of attrition was sheer folly.
One must know that even the tyranids were unwilling to engage the orks in a war of attrition.
Hive Fleet Leviathan had once launched an attack on one of the ork empires in the galaxy.
The tyranids, who habitually favored swarm tactics, were forced by the orks to resort to decapitation strikes, just like the Imperium.
The orks' reinforcement speed was simply too fast.
The tyranids discovered that they couldn't kill orks as quickly as new ones grew from the ground.
Dragging it out would leave the orks unharmed while the tyranids would be drained dry, forcing them to change tactics.
Attempting to fight the orks with human wave tactics was undoubtedly a disadvantageous endeavor.
Only decapitation strikes were the best approach; as long as the Warlord was killed, the other orks would naturally collapse.
After a final check of his strategic layout, ensuring there were no issues.
Guilliman turned and walked out of the control room, heading towards the teleportarium deck, surrounded by the Honour Guard.
The Spearhead force, having already performed their pre-battle prayers and weapon checks, awaited him.
Sicarius, Phicris, and the most skilled veterans selected from various Chapters.
A total of one thousand primaris space marines, all elite veterans, clad in Centurion and Terminator power armour.
In addition to this, there were ten Dreadnoughts tempered by the fires of war.
Guilliman had formed them into a Spearhead force, prepared for the decapitation plan.
The strength of this force was enough to easily sweep across an alien planet.
Crushing any existence that dared to resist.
But now, their mission was merely to raid and decapitate the enemy alongside their Primarch.
The terror of an Ork Warboss was beyond description.
If they were easy to deal with, Vulkan would not have been forced into a mutually assured destruction scenario in the past.
Facing the Ork Warboss, Guilliman had to proceed with caution.
Chapter Chaplains led them in pre-battle prayers, and ammo servitors performed their final checks.
All those chosen for the Spearhead force watched Guilliman, awaiting his command.
"We advance," Guilliman said without unnecessary words, speaking the two words after surveying the assembled warriors.
As he spoke, the machines on the teleportarium deck of the Macragge's Glory were activated, humming and buzzing.
Giant metal reaction columns crackled and generated powerful energy, providing power to the focusing arrays to tear open the barrier between realspace and the Warp.
The apparatus emitted a light that stung the eyes; as the light grew stronger, coiled and intertwined materialized spheres of charge were filtered through jagged edges and entered the flasks on the teleportation equipment, twisting violently as if alive.
The arcane teleportation machinery roared and chanted.
The entire deck vibrated with their operation, the noise growing increasingly intense.
Suddenly, a colossal boom resounded.
A chemical flash bleached the entire teleportarium deck.
Steam suppressants sprayed from large-bore pipes to prevent the overloaded machinery from catching fire.
Armed crewmen raised their weapons, wary of potential Warp rifts and daemonic incursions.
Everything was normal; no spatial anomalies were detected.
"Target has been delivered to the designated location."
A low mechanical voice spoke.
The lighting tubes flickered back on, the spheres of charge within the flasks depleted, and the sharp screech they emitted ceased abruptly.
Pressurized vents sucked away the smoke, revealing the empty teleportation platform.
Tech-Adepts reviewed the parameters on the screens and the paper printouts from the cogitators.
Seeing the results, expressions of relief appeared on their faces.
The Primarch and his warriors had successfully entered the most magnificent fortress on the planet Charadon.
Each time he underwent a jump, Guilliman felt a strange sensation of his soul instantly traversing the Warp and realspace.
The blinding light gradually faded from his eyes, and the teleportation array platform of the Macragge's Glory was gone.
In its place, a world rusted, dim, and scarred by the fires of industry appeared before him.
Sicarius, Phicris, and many warriors, upon recovering their sight, immediately raised their weapons.
They had landed on a colossal platform.
Thousands of orks, clad in well-maintained heavy armour and wielding weapons, roared at the thousand-plus human warriors who had appeared without warning.
These orks were even more terrifying in size than primaris space marines, each one reaching three meters.
Their equipment was vastly different from the rusty gear of the orks outside, being exquisitely crafted and well-maintained, and even their roars were more ferocious than those of the other orks.
"Crush them!" Guilliman roared without hesitation, the Emperor's Sword in his hand erupting with intense light.
The Gauntlets of Ultramar were the first to unleash a barrage.
Instantly tearing apart several orks before him.
The Honour Guard were the first to respond to their lord's battle cry.
Members of the Guard, clad in azure Terminator power armour, raised their bolters, unleashing a massive volume of ammunition in a single volley.
Forming a network of fire that tore everything apart.
In an instant, the ork ranks were a scene of flying flesh and blood.
The distance between the two sides was so close that the torrent of fire did not last long before it devolved into close combat.
Guilliman joined the fray, swinging the Emperor's Sword, and wherever the blade passed, golden flames surged, moving with a speed the naked eye could not follow.
Relying on his terrifying power of command, he swept through everything like a prehistoric beast entering a flock of sheep.
The Emperor's Sword tore through countless orks, and wherever it went, ork limbs flew through the air.
His figure weaved and moved through the ork tide, as swift as lightning.
Wherever he went, the ork tide paused and collapsed.
The Emperor's blessing and the perseverance of countless humans granted Guilliman unparalleled might.
As the Emperor's Sword danced, a tide of fire swept forth; anything that came into contact with these flames was instantly reduced to explosive debris and ash, entire swathes of orks annihilated by a single strike.
An invisible force field emanated from Guilliman, grinding large groups of orks into dust.
Countless orks abandoned everything before them, gathering into a raging tide that surged directly towards Guilliman.
Their insane roars shook the battlefield; they wielded their weapons, unstoppable.
Even primaris space marines were overwhelmed by this terrifying tide.
However, Guilliman stood like a mighty mountain, towering within the tide; no matter how the orks charged, it was futile, they became the corpses lying at his feet.
Sicarius and Phicris were both shocked by the Primarch's invincible posture.
It was not the first time they had fought alongside a Primarch.
But at this moment, they were still plunged into deep shock.
Across the galaxy, no one could match the Thirteen Primarchs.
He was the embodiment of humanity's ultimate strength, and wherever he went, the enemies of mankind could only meet their end in death.
Roar!!
A colossal battle cry resounded.
A giant ork, whose entire body was mechanized, charged towards Guilliman, unstoppable like a rampaging prehistoric beast.
Sicarius and Phicris attempted to go to his aid.
Before they could get close.
They saw Guilliman turn and swing his sword, a massive fire dragon surging from the blade, turning everything in its path to ash.
Even the rampaging mechanized ork met the same fate.
This scene was etched into the hearts of everyone present, never to be forgotten.
Guilliman and the many elites formed a wedge assault, carving a path through the green tide.
Along the way, they left behind countless ork corpses.
They fought all the way, the battle incredibly brutal.
Guilliman remained silent, only swinging his sword.
Bloody battles raged, slaying countless powerful enemies.
Finally, the Spearhead force saw the heart of this ork empire.
Numerous powerful ork warriors, whose sheer size was greater than even a Primarch, surrounded a terrifying monstrous beast.
That fearsome beast was much larger than a Primarch.
Sicarius estimated that the ork's height alone must have been around fifteen meters.
In terms of height alone, it was comparable to the Titans of the Knights.
The beast was covered in super-heavy armour, it had a giant-like head, tusks like an elephant, and claws like chisels.
Its evil, cunning eyes, filled with a thirst for war, peered through the steel helmet, watching the humans charging towards them.
Four colossal mechanical secondary limbs were sacrilegiously embedded in the beast's armour, each one a deadly weapon, capable of easily crushing a Knight Titan.
This was the strongest being in this ork empire, the Ork Warboss - The Arsonist.
The Arsonist's right hand had been severed at the elbow and replaced with a massive flamethrower nozzle, capable of unleashing high-temperature promethium flames extending over a hundred meters.
This flamethrower could incinerate the flesh and blood of a squad of soldiers in a matter of breaths, turning their bones to ash.
Roar!
The Arsonist looked towards Guilliman's position and let out a roar.
Guilliman did not respond, but instead raised the Emperor's Sword in his hand and charged forward.
Behind him, the many loyalists also erupted with fierce battle intent, roaring as they charged towards the enemy.