The star, burning with blue-white flames, controlled six planets with its celestial gravity.
Among them, the fifth planet of the Beta-Garmon system was the most precious.
With its excellent void port and unique void gravity, this planet became a prosperous world.
Numerous suspended platforms, space foundries, and smelting plants floated in the planet's low-Earth orbit.
Over thirty percent of the troops from Terra were stationed here.
Numerous transport ships moved back and forth between the ground and high altitude like a swarm of bees.
"For Terra and Mars."
Hanto, the leader of the Knight House, raised his arm and shouted, and the other Knights followed suit, shouting loudly.
They belonged to the House Taranis.
This ancient house originated on Mars.
The control of the first Knight suit prototype from the Dark Age of Technology was in the hands of the ancestors of this ancient house.
House Taranis will always fight for humanity.
This is the oath ingrained in their blood, and every descendant of House Taranis will never forget it.
From the Long Night to the Great Crusade, they always chose humanity, not glory or power.
This excellent virtue had caused this house to suffer greatly.
They had walked to the brink of extinction.
But this house still resiliently survived, unlike other houses that were enslaved to their mechanical thrones due to various crimes.
They maintained their independence, gaining the respect of the Mechanicus and Terra through their battle achievements.
During the Horus Heresy, the civil war on Mars nearly led to the extinction of the entire House Taranis.
After that mutually destructive battle, only two Knights remained in the entire house.
One of them was severely wounded and could only rely on machinery to extend his life.
They had once reached the brink of extinction of their lineage.
However, House Taranis still survived that darkest hour and once again became the steadfast guardians of humanity.
"For humanity."
Hanto silently recited the house oath in his heart. He would die for humanity, die for loyalty, and this would never change.
A mechanical prompt sounded in the spacious bulkhead, urging the Knights to leave the compartment as soon as possible.
In the flickering lights, dozens of mechanical thrones were waiting under the red light, waiting for the Knights to activate them.
The Knight mechs were all fixed within frames composed of heavy mechanical arms and thick hydraulic pipes.
They were dormant, waiting to be awakened.
Under the urgent prompt, the door on the other side slowly opened with the hissing sound of hydraulic pipes.
Their transport ship had landed on the ground, and the pilot was waiting for the Knights to take their mechs and then transport the next batch of passengers.
Hanto stepped towards his mechanical throne.
His hair was slicked back into a pompadour, and he had even waxed it, making it look quite striking.
The neural interface on his forehead was clearly visible, completely uncovered.
Several retainers were jogging, following closely behind him.
"Knights. Let's go, let this world see the might of House Taranis," Hanto shouted.
After shouting, he reached out to the side.
A retainer placed a helmet in his hand.
Hanto put it on his head, allowing the padding to completely enclose his skull.
The transparent, impurity-free eyepieces blocked his eyes, the seals were locked, and the neural interfaces automatically connected, piercing into his skull and connecting to his nerves.
A mechanical hum came from the back of his head, and the communication device diagram appeared. All the Knights of House Taranis in this location were connected to the same channel.
Hanto walked to his mechanical throne and sat down.
The neural cables of the mechanical throne automatically extended, biting into their respective interfaces like winding venomous snakes.
Becoming one with the Knight.
More data was displayed in front of Hanto.
The mechanical arms rumbled, lowering from the ceiling of the transport ship, grabbing the mechanical throne, and then embedding it into the Knight mech.
When the connection complete icons lit up one by one, the hatch automatically lowered, and the clicking sounds of the latches indicated it was sealed and locked.
Purified air hissed through the ventilation pipes, replacing the chaotic air and increasing the pressure inside the cabin.
The neural impulse device connection interface appeared, and a massive amount of information flooded into the Knight's mind.
In an instant, Hanto could feel his body and the Knight Titan becoming one.
He could no longer feel his flesh and blood body.
At this moment, his body was a mechanical body made of adamantium and various high-strength synthetic metals.
The Knight Titan and his consciousness were still intimately connected, fitting together perfectly like a glove and a hand, and human and machine were integrated.
At this moment, he transformed into a metal giant, a fist of iron gripping guns, and the high temperature of the plasma reactor replaced the beating of his heart.
"For the Emperor, for the Omnissiah," Hanto shouted, full of faith.
Many Knights also shouted through their mechanical generators, responding to their lord.
"Advance."
As he spoke, the mechanical clamps used for fixing on the Knight Titan's ankles, waist, and shoulders all detached.
Under the Knight's control, the Knight Titan began to move.
They stepped towards the surface of Beta-Garmon V.
The Knight Titans formed neat formations, carrying a powerful sense of oppression.
As the Knights marched out in formation, the nearby Astra Militarum soldiers felt a slight palpitation from the oppressive atmosphere.
Knights were symbols of destruction; wherever they appeared, it was the enemy's nightmare.
Their presence also deterred other forces from ever having the thought of betraying the Emperor, otherwise, they would be destroyed like a collapsing building.
Not far from House Taranis, large Titans were being released from Titan transport ships.
They were even larger and more impactful.
Their tall and majestic steel bodies were symbols of the destructive power of the Machine God.
Just by standing there, those Titans were enough to make mortals feel fear and unease.
Many members of the Collegia Titanica also descended to the surface via transport ships.
This time, Mars had sent its two most important Titan Legions.
The Legio Solaria, composed entirely of women.
And the Legio Astorum, also known as the Mars Executioners.
These two Titan Legions were well-known throughout the Imperium.
Perhaps, this was destiny.
During the Great Crusade, the Legio Solaria had engaged in a brutal battle with a rebel Titan Legion.
The location was also on Beta-Garmon V.
It was a battle that gathered most of the Imperial forces.
Over ninety percent of the members of the Legio Solaria perished there.
Only the daughter of the Legion's Mistress, along with a portion of the Collegia members, evacuated and returned to defend the Sol system.
The casualty rate of every unit involved in that battle was astonishingly high.
But with such sacrifices, the Loyalists in the Beta-Garmon system shattered Horus' idea of quickly defeating the Emperor, turning the lightning war into a war of attrition.
Horus was forced to advance bit by bit, fighting for several years.
The Ultramarines completed their replenishment, allowing the strength of the Loyalists to overwhelm the traitors.
Among the many battles of the Horus Heresy, the Beta-Garmon system was the most brutal and the most important battle.
It determined the direction of humanity's fate.
Now, it will also determine the future fate of humanity.
Whether to follow the path of the Terran nobility or the path of Guilliman.
This crisis is no less severe than ten thousand years ago.
Once Guilliman compromises, everything will return to how it was.
Perhaps, the Primarchs can still hold the highest power in the Imperium, but everything will change.
Reforms will be canceled, and humanity will continue to advance in the glory of the Machine God and the Emperor.
If Guilliman does not compromise, the Imperium will break free from its old constraints and embark on a new path.
After the transport ships landed and released their divine machines, many tech-priests stepped into the Legio Solaria's transport ship.
A large sarcophagus, flashing with indicator lights, was placed in the highest-ranking transport cabin.
Aisha, the Mistress of the Legio Solaria, was awakened from her slumber pod.
She had slept for a long time and was only awakened during times of war.
Mars used this method to extend the life of the Mistress, keeping her in optimal condition at all times.
A tech-priest pulled out an operation data-slate from the sarcophagus, and slender metal fingers tapped on it to operate it.
Accompanied by a humming sound, the sound of mechanical gears echoed.
The massive metal hatch was slowly opened, and a woman with a graceful figure and beautiful appearance appeared before the tech-priests.
She was connected by countless cables, lying naked in the sarcophagus, like a sleeping beauty from a fairy tale.
The members of the Mechanicus were completely unaffected by the body in the sarcophagus, which was enough to tempt countless men.
In the eyes of the tech-priests, this was merely a body composed of organic flesh and blood, not worth much attention.
Only when facing mysterious and profound knowledge would they show enthusiasm and the human greed.
At other times, the tech-priests always maintained a cold and indifferent demeanor.
The sterile amniotic fluid was drained, and the tech-priests began to perform the neural awakening procedure.
Accompanied by the appearance of countless data and binary codes.
Aisha, who had been in deep slumber to slow down the decay of her lifespan, opened her eyes.
The data connected to her skull rapidly flooded into her mind, helping her understand the current situation.
The details of Mars' mission were presented before her, and the sheer volume of information was astonishing and shocking.
Aisha had never imagined that after sleeping for so long, the enemy she would have to face upon waking up was a revived Primarch.
And the battle would take place in the Beta-Garmon system, which had once determined the fate of the Legio Solaria and humanity.
Subtly, she felt a sense of the absurdity of destiny.
With the assistance of several house retainers, Aisha climbed out.
Years of immersion had made her body incredibly soft, and the moment it touched the air, her pores began to contract naturally, making her skin taut.
Soon, with the help of the tech-priests, she regained her ability to move.
The retainers retrieved the Mistress' equipment and weapons from the dusty armory.
Her companion, a dormant Emperor-class Titan - the War Goddess - also entered the awakening and maintenance inspection process.
The War Goddess was a battle-hardened Titan with countless honors.
In many battles, it had lived up to its title of War Goddess.
With its sharp and powerful destructive appearance, it made countless enemies tremble, and with its terrifying firepower, it struck fear into the hearts of its foes.
As the Mistress, Aisha held the highest authority in the Legio Solaria.
She commanded the entire Legio Solaria, including the members of various Knight Houses and Titans of all levels.
This was an unimaginable power.
The destruction of a planet was merely a thought away for her.
In the galaxy at this time, there were very few forces that could oppose a Titan Legion.
Even chaos warriors blessed by the gods were mere ants in front of a Titan Legion, who could be easily crushed at will.
The tech-priests exchanged data pulses, and soon they completed their work.
After the final confirmation of the Mistress' condition, they closed the access panel and hurried away.
Their work process displayed a strange synchronicity and efficiency.
Aisha spent some time understanding the ins and outs of this campaign, digesting the amount of information.
The revived Primarch had taken a wrong path, attempting to seize the highest power of the Imperium.
Such an act had threatened the Emperor's rule.
The Terran nobles had taken strong countermeasures to ensure the stability of the Emperor's rule.
She would fight for the Emperor, fight to defend Terra, and oppose a rebellious son attempting to seize his father's power.
Just as it was ten thousand years ago.
Aisha fell silent for a moment, but soon became resolute.
The Legio Solaria would hold this ground and would never retreat or compromise.
"To defend the Holy Emperor, to defend Terra, we shall face death as if going home, we shall dedicate everything. You are the pillars of the Imperium, the hope of humanity, the Emperor's best guardians. Take up your weapons, unleash your roars, justice will prevail, the Imperium will prevail, Holy Terra will prevail."
At the voidport on Beta-Garmon V, a massive holographic projection was giving a speech to the passing Astra Militarum soldiers.
The Imperial Departmento Munitorum had launched the most powerful propaganda offensive in history to indoctrinate the participating troops.
Haste sat in a Chimera APC, his gaze fixed on the projection with a solemn expression.
Just as Imperial Prime Minister Tieron had said, those guys had gone mad.
They had assembled such a massive force just to fight a Gene-seed Primarch, to force him to compromise, even going so far as to lift numerous historical taboos and negate a Primarch's legitimacy and motives from every angle.
The scale of the forces assembled on Terra was so vast that the spaceport exits, stretching for over a dozen kilometers, were filled with Imperial Guard regiments from all over.
As Haste led the Cadian soldiers out of the spaceport, he saw hundreds of Gorgon transports forming long queues, loaded with supplies and dragging artillery pieces.
Leman Russ, Baneblades, and other super-heavy tanks advanced three abreast, stretching as far as the eye could see, rumbling along the roads.
Most tanks were equipped with track guards, dozer blades, and air filters to adapt to harsh combat environments.
This was still just the tip of the iceberg; large numbers of regiments had yet to be transported down.
Haste examined these tanks, guessing which regiment they belonged to based on their insignia.
A hint of sadness also welled up in his heart.
If the Imperium had been willing to reinforce Cadia like this before, the events of the Great Rift would certainly not have occurred.
Unfortunately, there are no "ifs" in this world.
Several armored vehicles adorned with grinning skulls wearing spiked helmets appeared in Haste's view.
He recognized it as the insignia of the Death Korps of Krieg.
This was one of the most elite forces in the Imperium of Man.
Everyone who had come into contact with the Death Korps of Krieg felt they were absolute war machines.
They believed they were sinful and needed to fight until death to atone for their sins.
Haste withdrew his gaze.
Sitting in the APC, he pondered his next move.
Imperial Prime Minister Tieron had said he would lobby a group of allies to reduce the scale of this civil war and avoid unnecessary casualties among Imperial soldiers.
However, before setting off, the other party had not given him any information.
He didn't know if Tieron was trying to evade the surveillance of other High Lords, or if the Imperial Prime Minister had abandoned the idea of supporting the Primarch and joined the ranks of the Imperium's corrupt bureaucrats.
"Sir, there's a secret report." A guardsman jogged over, saluted Haste, and handed him the data-slate he held.
Haste took it and looked, then a smile appeared on his face.
This was sent to him by Tieron, a list of personnel in the same faction, and some instructions.
There were quite a few people who opposed this civil war.
They were originally scattered and utterly confused in their hearts.
But under Tieron's lobbying, they finally stood together resolutely, preparing to stop this catastrophe that could decide the fate of humanity.
Tieron sent Haste a list of wavering generals, asking him to continue lobbying these people and dismantle the schemes of the Terran elites.
"Humanity should not take up arms against each other." Haste read out the words Tieron had left him.
This Imperial Prime Minister had chosen to betray his class and remain loyal to his oath.
Haste could imagine what Tieron's mood must have been like when he wrote that sentence.
A formation of fighter jets bearing the Minotaurs Chapter insignia flew from the flagship in low orbit, streaking towards the planet's surface.
The atmospheric currents scraped against the fighter jets' hulls, producing whistling sounds.
It was like the distorted howling of wolves in the wind.
Astyon, Chapter Master of the Minotaurs, was secured in the fighter jet's mechanical restraints to maintain stability during the turbulent atmospheric entry.
He was reviewing the High Lords' orders.
"This is a war with no winners; we have become political tools," the Chapter Chaplain said angrily. "A war of this scale will shatter the Imperium of Man and make the daemons and traitors laugh out loud."
"Isn't this the mission we were created for? A weapon forged for the Emperor's glory, existing to defend the Imperium's authority," Astyon replied to the Chaplain's anger. "Other matters don't concern us much; our task is to carry out Terra's orders."
"If it were for the Emperor, we shouldn't be here," the Chapter Chaplain said.
"We have no choice," Astyon shook his head. "The High Lords kept us for this very reason. They need a blade that doesn't belong to any Primarch. Our gene-seed, not belonging to any Chapter, is a chimeric gene-seed specially crafted by the tech-priests of Mars. Do you want all our brothers to lose control?"
"Do you want those brothers to turn to Chaos like the Chapters of the Cursed Founding, abandoning the Emperor's glory? We have no choice."
The Minotaurs Chapter was founded during the Twenty-first Founding, which was also referred to as the Cursed Founding by the Inquisitors and other Chapters.
Any Chapter founded during that time eventually met a dark end.
Many Chapters in the Imperium believed that the Chapters of the 21st Founding had been tainted from their very inception.
This also led to the Chapters of the 21st Founding being unable to establish friendly relations with other allied forces.
Many Chapters were heavily discriminated against and subjected to various Imperial inspections.
Once mutations occurred, it would provoke purges by the Imperial Inquisition and other allied Chapters.
This led many Chapters to fall into despair amidst discrimination and targeting, choosing to defect to Chaos.
The Minotaurs Chapter was also a product of that Founding, yet they had always been favored by the High Lords and never faced any difficulties from Imperial bureaucrats.
Many acts that could have been deemed excommunicate traitoris were protected by the High Lords, and their records were deleted.
Their price was to become the private army of the High Lords of Terra, in exchange for the Imperium's support.
The Minotaurs Chapter was not without mutations; rather, they had been suppressing those mutations with the help of Martian technology.
Some unqualified recruits would also be executed immediately from the start.
The Chapter Chaplain sighed, finally giving up on refuting.
They needed to fight for Terra.
There was no choice.
In the hive city on the planet Beta-Garmon V.
A meeting was about to be held here.
The power-holders of the various forces chose to hold the meeting using projections due to the vast distances.
Accompanied by the hum of machinery, indistinct figures appeared in the dim hall.
Their flickering bodies were like ghosts.
Their eyes were hollow and vacant, and their limbs were merely hazy curves formed by thin mist of light.
The circular projectors mounted on the walls emitted mechanical whirring sounds, and the ticking computation arrays were also processing the incoming data at high speed.
The images were sometimes clear, sometimes out of focus.
After adjusting for a while, vivid projections finally appeared in the hall.
Advanced Martian technology was used here, making each projected figure appear lifelike, as if naturally formed, without any trace of artificiality.
The depicted light speed and scattered interference were hard to find, but because the hall was completely dark, they all emitted a faint glow, which indicated that they were holographic ghosts.
The controllers of numerous forces, including Knightly Houses, Titan Legions, the Imperial Guard, and space marine Chapters, gathered here.
As they appeared, a large-scale holographic projection also gradually took shape in a flicker, displaying the Beta-Garmon system, composed of gas giants, terrestrial planets, and a star and asteroid belt.
Beta-Garmon was a very prosperous system.
Besides being a node on the warp routes, it also produced vast amounts of resources.
For example, rare metals mined from gas giants.
In the vast void of the Beta-Garmon system, numerous shipyards and industrial foundries were suspended.
They dotted the system like pearls.
Once the system projection stabilized, everything was ready.
The projections came online one after another, but the meeting hall was unusually silent.
Everyone exchanged glances but couldn't speak, and quickly fell into silence again.
Only after a moment did a voice speak.
"Who will take command of this operation?"
The Terran elites had assembled this massive army at the fastest possible speed.
However, they had little experience in commanding such a massive army.
After all, they thought more about how to preserve their own power.
As for issues like an army's chain of command, logistics, and supply, they couldn't think that far ahead.
If they could perfectly coordinate an army of such a vast scale, they wouldn't need to fear Guilliman purging them.
All they wanted was to throw this army into the Beta-Garmon system to gain leverage for negotiations with Guilliman.
They had never considered who would coordinate such a magnificent army.
Without a Primarch-level figure and overwhelming influence, who could coordinate such a massive army in a short time and gain everyone's trust?
"It should be commanded by Mars. We are proficient in data and can make the most rational judgments and decisions," said a tech-priest whose legs had been replaced by a Destroyer anti-gravity engine platform.
His heavy body hovered there, numerous weapons moving with the sound of pistons and gears.
"This is war, not data calculation," a military general retorted unceremoniously.
"There is no difference between the two," the tech-priest said. "Rationality and data can help us win."
"If that were the case, the Mechanicus should have defeated Chaos and been invincible in the galaxy long ago. Why haven't they?"
The general sneered, then changed the subject.
"My opinion is that the commander of this campaign should be a Naval Admiral appointed by Fleet Admiral Mereta."
"The Imperial Guard will never obey your orders. By the Emperor, it would be an absolute nightmare for you to command this war. Your lance beams will never hit the enemy; they will always hit your own people."
A high-ranking Imperial Guard officer refuted the proposal from the general of Naval origin.
The ground forces and the navy had always been at odds; they disliked each other.
From the time of their ancestors, each family had fixed which faction they belonged to.
Like father, like son; the son of a dragon is a dragon, the son of a phoenix is a phoenix, and the son of a rat is in a rat hole.
The Solar Segmentum was different from other war-torn sectors.
Under the Emperor's protection, the Solar Segmentum had always been relatively stable.
If xenos or Chaos forces were able to reach the Solar Segmentum, it would also alert other sectors, leading to reinforcements.
Overall, compared to other sectors, the Solar system was considered peaceful.
For this reason, many noble families would send their children into the faction they belonged to, to take over their positions.
During peacetime, they would use their political capital to help them quickly advance, and before war came, they would transfer them away, maximizing the stability of the family's inheritance.
Therefore, the deeper one went into Terra, the more entrenched and complex the family powers became. Basically, several generations of a family would enter the same system and control resources.
Compared to those constantly war-torn sectors, it was actually fairer; those at the bottom had a greater chance to climb up.
The various factions argued for a long time but failed to decide on the commander for this time.
The Martian side hoped the Adeptus Mechanicus would control this army.
While the Navy and the Army also had their own ideas.
Some generals supported by rogue traders and the Administratum were also unwilling to compromise.
The various parties argued fiercely.
It was difficult to reach a consensus.
As for the High Lords, they also hadn't appointed a supreme commander at the beginning, the reason being their inability to reach an agreement.
One must know that the entire strength of the Terran elites was placed in the Beta-Garmon system.
Once the supreme commander was a representative of a certain faction, recklessly consuming their strength while preserving their own, the result was predictable.
Even if Guilliman was forced to compromise with Terra, maintain the current situation, and stop reforms that damaged the core interests of the elites.
These people would also be squeezed out of the core layer by other High Lords because they lacked a foundation.
In this way, wouldn't they just be doing someone else's work for nothing?
When the High Lords chose a commander, they also considered various reasons, and all hoped that the representative of their own faction could become the commander.
The outcome, naturally, was that they couldn't reach an agreement.
At least before the army assembled in the Beta-Garmon system, they couldn't reach an agreement, and it was estimated that they would never reach one.
Haste had the good fortune to participate in this meeting.
Seeing those guys still vying for power and profit in the current situation, maximally protecting their own interests, made him even more firm in Tieron's view.
The Imperium needs to change. The corrupt legacy families have reached the time to withdraw from the stage of history, otherwise the Imperium will surely die, and humanity will perish.
The Imperium of Man needs a great purge, to be reborn through death, to rise from destruction.
Even a civil war that shatters humanity would bring more benefits than maintaining the status quo.
The Imperium needs an iron fist to smash the decaying system and decadent ideas, and then rebuild everything anew.
"Enough, stop this pointless quarreling," the Matriarch of the Legio Ignatum spoke, raising her voice to silence the arguing parties. "Quarreling will not bring us to an agreement. Let the decision for the position of Supreme Commander be made by Terra. For now, our task is to complete our own missions and hold our positions. We are fighting a Primarch; they were gods of war walking among the stars, capable of commanding vast legions as easily as moving their own limbs.
If you continue to quarrel, it will only make us weaker, let alone face a Primarch's assault. It will only make us a laughingstock, allowing the enemy to easily step over our corpses, reach the soil of Terra, and seize the Emperor's crown."
Isha's words plunged everyone into silence.
But soon, a discordant voice broke through.
"What right does a woman, a useless person who can only sleep in a nutrient tank, have to lecture us?" a young general said indignantly. "The Legio Ignatum hasn't been deployed for centuries. Do you even remember how to fight a war?"
Isha's projection remained silent for a moment, then looked at the general. "Considering this is your first offense, I forgive your ignorance and insolence. Even if the Legio Ignatum were just a mechanical servant, it would be stronger than you, a glutton and drunkard who rose to power through family connections."
"You!" The young general felt humiliated.
This damned woman compared him, an elite with an excellent family legacy, to a servitor.
This was an insult to his family's honor.
If they were on Terra at this moment, he would not hesitate to draw his pistol and kill her.
"Shut up, Caleb," an old general who seemed to hold a high position, standing beside the young general, spoke up, stopping him from spouting further nonsense.
With this interlude, Isha also realized that this meeting was futile.
Soon after, her communication was cut off.
This meeting had become meaningless.
The image of the Legio Ignatum Matriarch flickered a few times and then disappeared.
Seeing someone leave early, many generals also disconnected their communications one after another.
The Fabricator-General said in a mechanical voice, "Foolish and selfish, utterly faithless," then also cut off communication.
Image after image disappeared, and the hall returned to darkness.
In the end, only the young general named Caleb remained. He looked in the direction where the Legio Ignatum Matriarch's image had been and said resentfully, "What's there to be arrogant about? Aren't you just a dog controlled by Mars?"
Only after cursing did he cut off communication.
Khast walked out of his tent.
"General," a guardsman saluted.
Khast nodded, then strode into the distance. He needed to talk to someone.
Tieron had given him a list.
Now was the time to use that list.
He had already left Terra; even if he was exposed, other units wouldn't dare to act rashly.
The Cadians would not fear them.
Aboard the Battle Barge 'Storm's Spear' in low orbit.
The current Chapter Master of the Imperial Fists, Vladimir, was training in a training cage, his upper body bare, revealing strong, powerful muscles like snakes or pythons.
At this moment, he was sweating profusely during his training.
Under his unyielding will and instinctive combat skills, the training servitor was suppressed to the point of being almost immobile.
"Don't forget one thing, Vladimir, you are the second iteration of the Imperial Fists. As for what kind of crisis the first iteration of the Imperial Fists encountered in history, and why they were destroyed, you know well. It is time for Terra to change. I hope you stand on the right side. Even if Lord Dorn were to return, he would not wish to see his sons attack his brother, Lord Guilliman, for the sake of the nobility."
Just as Vladimir was about to win, Tieron's words appeared in his mind, making him pause.
The training servitor seized the opportunity, broke free from his attack, and the long sword embedded in its bone swung towards his neck.
Vladimir was a veteran of many battles; this strike, enough to kill a recruit, was insignificant in his eyes.
He ducked down, avoiding the strike, then lunged at the servitor, using the weapon in his hand to stab into its skull, securing victory.
But there was no joy on his face. He was no longer suitable to continue training.
"What's wrong?"
Lysander, the First Company captain of the Imperial Fists, stood outside the training cage and asked the Chapter Master with concern.
With years of veteran experience, he could tell that Vladimir was distracted.
This was fatal for a space marine.
"I'm troubled by some things," Vladimir said.
"This war?"
"Yes, I'm somewhat lost. Perhaps we shouldn't have left Terra to come here. Even if the High Lords ordered it, we should have refused without hesitation. After the Horus Heresy, our father made a vow that we would never again wage war against our brothers. I wonder if we have broken that vow."
"I am equally lost. We are gathered here to launch an attack on a Primarch. How absurd is that? After this war, regardless of the outcome, the Imperium will be torn apart," said First Company captain Lysander. "The Ultramarines have the most successor chapters; they are the backbone of the Imperium, yet Terra has painted their Primarch as a daemon. They will feel humiliated and will react."
"My thoughts are the same as yours. Perhaps we are wrong. We have stood on the wrong side, fighting for the bureaucrats we once despised, upholding their rule," Vladimir said. "Before we departed, Tieron requested a meeting with me. He hoped the Imperial Fists would abandon the action against the Primarch and turn against the High Lords before the battle, to dissolve this civil war. For some complex reasons, I did not reply to him."
"Perhaps he is right," Lysander said. "We both experienced the Cadian Gate campaign. That was a tragic war; the Imperium could have stopped the Warmaster's actions. We need a regime that can act quickly, identify crises, and resolve them rapidly. We can no longer waste so much time on meaningless internal strife. Those bureaucratic games have nothing to do with us; we are just warriors, sworn to fight for humanity and the Emperor. And those in power on Terra have deviated from this."
Vladimir remained silent for a long time, finally speaking. "Summon the successor chapters belonging to the Imperial Fists. I need to hear their opinions."
The Imperial Fists are based on Terra, and most of the successor chapters in the Sol System are either branched off from the Imperial Fists or use the Imperial Fists' gene-seed.
Of the fifteen chapters that have deployed en masse for this operation, more than half are successor chapters of the Imperial Fists.
The Imperial Fists themselves only sent the Chapter Master, the First Company captain, and two companies of warriors.
They are only assisting, not acting as the main force, so they are not included in the count of fifteen chapters.
But the Imperial Fists are the parent chapter and hold immense influence.
First Company captain Lysander left in a hurry.
Vladimir walked towards his armory. Chapter serfs had been waiting for a long time; they would help him don his power armor so that he could meet with the leaders of the other chapters.
Terra.
Underhive.
Lying on a stone slab, Nava allowed members of the Brotherhood to draw blasphemous runes on his strong body.
"Eternal and Immortal Brass Lord, Master of Blood and Fire, God of War and Slaughter, please hear the call of your faithful. We offer souls yearning for destruction and blood, and we ask you to guide us to the path of salvation."
A man in a blood-red robe shouted hysterically, then cut open Nava's palm and used a dagger to carve a symbol of the Blood God on his chest.
Nava endured the pain without making a sound.
The Blood God is never stingy with his blessings; the only thing the faithful must do is prove themselves worthy of the blessings.
The Blood God values courage and the indomitable rage in the hearts of his followers.
Nava possessed both of these.
He was enraged by the corrupt system of the Imperium and possessed enough courage to oppose the rule of the Corpse-Emperor.
The Blood God would gladly accept his soul, grant him enlightenment on the path, and lead him towards the destruction of the Imperium of Man.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out from outside.
Adeptus Arbites enforcers had received a tip-off and located this ritual site of the Brass Brotherhood.
Well-trained Imperial enforcement units, using drones and advanced equipment, were slaughtering those who dared to betray the Emperor.
The Brass Brotherhood was no match for the Adeptus Arbites.
"We need to evacuate."
A man rushed in, speaking quickly.
"Wait a little longer," said the man leading the ritual. "He is about to receive the Blood God's favor. Terra will belong to the Blood God, a great era is about to begin, and the rule of the Corpse-Emperor will end."
The enforcement units were extremely fast.
The Brass Brotherhood had recruited only from the underclass; they had no good weapons and little combat training, and they quickly collapsed.
Corpses lay everywhere.
They were all ragged poor people.
An Arbites official stepped over the bodies, covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief to avoid the pungent smell of blood.
"These damned vermin should all die. Can't they learn to be loyal to the Emperor like the nobles?"
"You useless lot, finish this quickly. I have a wine party to attend tonight."
The Arbites official adjusted the belt around his corpulent body, looking very impatient.
The enforcement units dared not argue with this high-ranking figure with powerful connections; they could only speed up, crushing the rebels with their crude weapons, and rushed into the final room.
They were ready to deal with the remaining rebels and end the battle.
However, the next second, their confidence was shattered.
Screams rang out one after another.
Several enforcement officers fled in panic, their bodies trembling from what they had just witnessed.
Their colleagues who couldn't escape had been reduced to broken flesh and blood; a terrifying killing monster had slaughtered them.
Nava felt an endless rage burning within him; this rage would not be extinguished until he was utterly destroyed.
A terrifying, unimaginable will rejoiced at the bloodshed he had caused.
But it was not enough, far from enough.
He needed to offer more blood to continue pleasing the other party.
He let out a roar, then walked out of the hall, covered in blood.
The first person Nava saw upon stepping out was that official.
The official who had burned his friend alive, and slit the throats of two children and his female neighbor.
A cruel smile appeared on Nava's face, the smile of impending revenge.
Praise the great Blood God, he had been granted this opportunity.
"Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
Nava roared, then, gripping the cleaver in his hand, he charged towards the enforcement official whose face was filled with terror.
Behind him, the remnants of the Brass Brotherhood also surged out.
They lunged at the enforcement units, shouting slogans like 'The False Emperor is dead, the Blood God reigns!'