Caleb shouted very loudly, giving the impression of being furious.
He strode past the two Krieg soldiers on guard duty and directly entered the tent of Colonel Yoton of the Krieg.
"After so long, no attack has been launched? Lay down the artillery barrage, speed up the advance," Caleb said with great dissatisfaction, glancing around at the Krieg soldiers inside the tent.
He stared intently at Colonel Yoton, hoping for a reasonable explanation.
Otherwise, he wouldn't mind making this foolish Krieg regiment suffer a bit.
Many people admired the courage and sacrifice of the Krieg.
But in the eyes of the descendants of noble families like Caleb, the Krieg were just useful tools, a synonym for foolishness.
As long as they invoked the name of the God-Emperor and the Imperium, they would fight with all their might.
Even without any equipment, they would use their lives to fight and fill the gaps.
Loyalty is the best reward. The thought of this Krieg saying made Caleb laugh.
It was almost indescribably stupid.
They asked for nothing, yet were willing to fight so desperately.
The Krieg were naturally also a very important political bargaining chip in the hands of the many noble families on Terra.
As long as one controlled a Krieg regiment, one controlled an army that feared no death.
As long as it was said to be the Emperor's will, they would fight with all their might to gain enough political capital for that noble, using it to climb higher.
This was also why the family forces behind Caleb paid a high price for him to take control and serve as the superior officer of this army.
The Krieg were undoubtedly the best tools for earning military honors.
In Caleb's understanding, as long as an order was given, the Krieg would launch a series of fierce offensives within two minutes.
But now, the order had been given so long ago, and they still hadn't launched an attack.
This made Caleb very unhappy.
He had been counting on these Krieg to turn the tide, defeat the Cadians, and reverse the current unfavorable situation.
But unexpectedly, the Krieg were so sluggish.
This was disobeying orders, this was betraying the Emperor.
These damned fellows should be declared traitors by the Inquisition and thrown back to their homeworld to await death.
Caleb thought maliciously.
If the Imperium declared the Krieg Death Korps to be traitors, these fellows would probably collapse into despair.
The tent was filled with Krieg soldiers, all wearing respirators. Their uniforms were grey and drab, looking lifeless and heavy.
Their uniforms were like themselves.
They never removed their masks and respirators.
Caleb, dressed in a command uniform tailored from smooth silk, looked completely out of place among these Krieg soldiers.
Caleb thought they must have had the parts of their brains responsible for free thinking removed at birth.
These fools who wouldn't show their faces were only fit to be tools for those of superior birth, destined from birth to become great figures ruling humanity for the Emperor.
Caleb had never seen the true appearance of a Krieg soldier.
Nor did he care what these tools looked like.
Earning military honors for him was the most important thing.
Who cared what kind of daemons or monsters these Krieg were?
Colonel Yoton looked at Caleb as he entered, completely calm.
The other party's rank was much higher than his; he was the supreme commander designated by the High Lords of Terra for this Krieg army.
But Colonel Yoton didn't care about this at all, showing no fear of the other party's authority.
"The Krieg will never betray the Emperor," Colonel Yoton said.
"Then why haven't you attacked the enemy?? Those damned Cadians have betrayed the Emperor and disobeyed the orders of the High Lords. I demand that you attack them immediately and rescue those generals," Caleb said, enraged. "Do you want to be declared traitors by the Imperium? Krieg?"
Colonel Yoton remained silent, not speaking.
"Can't you understand plain language? I order you to attack. That is a demonstration of loyalty to the Emperor," seeing the silent Krieg Colonel, Caleb became even more furious, roaring.
Colonel Yoton reached out and played the video from the Cadians.
The scene within made Caleb's expression change. He pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Colonel Yoton. "These are all fake, meant to deceive you. Attack immediately now! Don't force me to execute you."
"The Krieg will never betray the Emperor," Colonel Yoton repeated, enunciating each word.
"I told you to attack, kill those Cadians, and save those generals," Caleb roared, grabbing the other party's clothing and aiming the gun at Yoton's head. "Don't force me to kill you."
Colonel Yoton was unmoved. His eyes, visible through the goggles of his respirator, simply looked at the furious Caleb.
It was as if the gun was not aimed at his head, but at the other party's head.
That kind of calm composure was incredible.
Caleb fired a shot at the other party's leg. The searing beam instantly pierced the other party's clothing, burning a small hole.
"You forced me to do this. Don't doubt my resolve to act," Caleb said viciously. "I will report this to the High Lords. You Krieg are all traitors, unworthy of the Emperor's forgiveness, and you will be forever reviled."
Colonel Yoton endured the pain, trying hard to maintain his standing posture, and repeated again, word for word.
"The Krieg will never betray the Emperor."
The other Krieg officers also stood calmly in place.
They didn't move.
They just watched their superior being threatened and shot in the thigh.
They didn't try to fight back, nor did they try to protect their superior.
Seeing the colonel still trying to maintain his stance, Caleb suddenly felt his scalp tingle.
Are these guys all completely insane?
Why, why aren't they afraid!!
Damn it!!
Damn it!!
Footsteps came from outside the tent, and a Krieg soldier entered.
After performing the Aquila, he reported to Colonel Yoton: "Confirmed, that video is real."
Caleb felt a bad premonition. Just as he was about to threaten the Krieg colonel again, preparing to use any means necessary to force the other party to attack the Cadians.
At this moment, a Krieg officer next to Caleb moved.
He threw a punch with lightning speed, hitting Caleb, who was about to threaten Colonel Yoton, in the face.
Caleb had no time to react.
He only felt a sweetness in his mouth, and two bloody teeth were sent flying out.
Every Krieg soldier was selected for the battlefield through bloody combat.
Becoming an officer meant that their strength, skill, and combat experience were even greater than other Krieg soldiers.
Krieg had no nobility, only soldiers loyal to the Emperor.
Only the most outstanding among them could become officers.
Caleb was stunned by the punch. Before he could catch his breath, the other party's attack followed swiftly.
The Krieg officer punched him in the abdomen. Caleb felt like the food from last night was being punched out of him.
Then, the Krieg officer quickly twisted his joints, making him scream repeatedly, and the gun in his hand fell to the ground.
Soon, he was pinned to the ground. The whole process took only a few seconds, astonishingly fast.
"Are you betraying the Emperor?" Caleb shouted. "I will report this to the High Lords. You wait to be declared Anathema Traitors. Every loyal subject of the Imperium will spit upon your graves."
"No, the ones betraying the Emperor are you. You instigated us to fire on the Emperor's son, just like that sinner of Krieg who is forever unworthy of a name. You deceived us," Colonel Yoton said. "We will not betray the Emperor."
The civil war on Krieg originated from the planetary governor abandoning the Emperor's glory and declaring independence.
That planetary governor used sweet words to deceive those people, telling them that the Imperium recruiting those regiments to die was simply wasting their lives.
They should enjoy peace properly, not participate in the Imperium's ambitious crusades.
A Krieg colonel returning from the stars raised the banner of opposition.
He believed that Krieg's peace was not achieved by the Krieg people alone, but relied on the Imperium fighting wars everywhere and resisting the enemy.
They were enjoying peace bought with the lives of other Imperial Guard.
The actions of the Krieg governor betrayed the Imperium of Man, betrayed the Emperor, and even betrayed those Imperial forces fighting in bloody battles.
The two sides could not reach an agreement, and thus civil war broke out.
To prove his loyalty, the Krieg colonel returning from the stars did not hesitate to nuke the homeworld.
Those nuclear bombs were not ordinary nuclear bombs; the resulting toxic rain turned the entire world into a radiation-scorched wasteland where nothing could grow.
People could only live underground, constantly wearing respirators.
The ruined planet of Krieg had nothing left, only its own people to offer, to fight for the Emperor and redeem their past sins.
To achieve this goal, the surviving Krieg underwent genetic modification, and all their descendants were bred in artificial wombs.
They remembered their sins and were always ready to sacrifice themselves for the Emperor.
No matter how absurd the order, as long as it was certain to contribute to the Emperor, they would execute it without hesitation.
"You..." Caleb shouted.
But Colonel Yoton said nothing. He ordered Caleb to be seized and taken away for confinement.
"Declare the war ended to the Cadians. We are loyal to the Emperor," Colonel Yoton said.
Terra.
"Evil, the Imperium's Greatest Traitor - Guilliman to be Defeated in the Beta-Garmon System, Let Us Cheer for This, This is the Imperium's Victory, a Manifestation of the Emperor's Glory."
Propaganda from the Imperial Daily Newspaper echoed day and night throughout the various hive cities.
Unfortunately, not many people paid attention to this.
The unrest continued to spread, its scale constantly expanding, and the Imperial forces were increasingly struggling to cope.
The Custodes were deployed more and more frequently.
Everyone could feel a storm brewing.
Some astropaths claimed they saw seas of blood and endless slaughter.
Nightmares assailed everyone, tormenting their fragile nerves.
But the nobles of Terra were still scheming and fighting amongst themselves, dividing up interests and planning various scenarios after Guilliman's expected compromise.
They turned a blind eye to the crisis on Terra, immersing themselves in banquets, council meetings, and other activities.
The crisis caused by the ignorant lower classes would only harm themselves.
Every noble thought this way.
They had armies, bodyguards, and enough water and food.
The riots caused by the mobs would not affect them.
They didn't care about the lives and deaths of the lower classes at all.
Caring about the lower classes was less important than caring about how to win over other families.
Marriage alliances, or intertwining interests.
These were the things they needed to care about.
The Senate of the Imperium, the twelve High Lords were holding a meeting.
They were dressed in formal attire, gathered together, wearing official robes and sitting on soft seats.
The meeting place was located at the highest point of the Imperial Senate building.
Weak light filtered through the tall stained glass windows.
Two White Shield guards with boltguns stood guard at the heavy doors.
More soldiers were standing guard in the council hall or around it.
Numerous drones and hovering combat servitors circled outside, their buzzing sounds coming from beyond.
The High Lords, who had climbed to this position through complex political struggles, had become extremely paranoid.
They were extremely afraid of sudden assassinations.
They insisted on implementing incredible security measures in the safest place in the entire Imperium.
Tieron understood this.
He knew how terrifying political infighting on Terra could be.
Those families often cultivated terrifying assassins to eliminate their political enemies and those who harmed their interests.
This meeting had already lasted for several hours.
Numerous proposals were put forward, then rejected or passed.
For Tieron, this was also an extremely bureaucratic and dull scene.
The roars and anger of these High Lords were all for the greater benefit of the groups they represented.
Those proposals would be embellished with grand justifications like loyalty, the Imperium, and the Emperor to represent their legitimacy.
Tieron really couldn't see what a proposal to build food production factories on Terra to alleviate the spread of famine had to do with the Emperor's glory.
Mortals believe in the Emperor, but they still have to eat, right?
Dandar, the representative of the rogue trader fleet, cast a veto vote against Tieron's proposal to rebuild Terra's food supply system.
The reason was that on the sacred land of Terra, merely accommodating the vast population was already at its limit.
If food production were to be carried out further, it would inevitably damage the ecological structure of the region and breed more problems.
In reality, they simply didn't want Terra to be self-sufficient.
If Terra couldn't be self-sufficient, it would need to transport goods from outside.
This was a huge profit, related to the wealth of many families.
The Fabricator-General of Mars, Lasky, cast a vote in favor of this.
Tieron knew from some secret channels that Dandar and this Fabricator-General had reached a consensus.
Agreeing to the other party's proposal to lift the ban on certain special items, as well as assisting Mars in transporting some special goods, in exchange for the other party's support.
It was a game: you support me, I support you.
Once the interests were balanced, the proposal would pass.
Without surprise, the proposal was rejected.
There were too many interests involved; Tieron couldn't shake them at all.
Tieron didn't show much reaction to this; he had done what he should.
Failure to succeed wasn't his problem either.
He wouldn't fall out over this proposal; although he wasn't one of the twelve High Lords.
But the fact that he had climbed up meant he knew the ropes well.
This is how the game is played.
Falling out is useless; it will only make others think you are not qualified to continue playing this game.
They will use various means to expel you.
At necessary moments, they will even kill you.
To prevent you from getting hot-headed and ruining the game.
The political struggle on Terra is a pile of shit; those who participate must become a pile of shit themselves to compete together.
Many talented people simply cannot adapt to such complex interpersonal relationships.
Therefore, they are often buried.
What's the use of being capable? To get by on Terra, it's about background, connections, and exchanging interests. So what if you're capable?
Even if you are the most outstanding graduate of Terra's highest academy, what's the use?
Without a background and without understanding how to cultivate connections, you can only be consumed at the complex bottom layer of power on Terra.
A small whim of power can completely stifle everything you've worked for.
Taking advantage of the break in the assembly, when the twelve High Lords went to rest.
Tieron stood up and walked out of the Senatorial Assembly Hall.
He felt the urge to urinate and wanted to relieve himself.
The washroom he used was for the use of the Imperial high command.
There were large numbers of guards stationed along the route.
However, this path was not peaceful either.
From time to time, some unknown experts, officials, or military personnel would lurk, hidden in the shadows, waiting for Imperial dignitaries to pass by.
These people waited for a long time, just to say a word or two to these Imperial nobles, or to get a signature they casually signed to get rid of trouble.
Tieron had no prejudice against this; everyone climbed up this way.
When in a low position, you must know how to put aside face and dignity.
This world is very realistic; as long as you succeed, even if you were once a slave, you will be highly respected.
Everything a successful person does will be embellished.
For this, what people want to do is succeed by any means necessary.
Tieron walked down the corridor, refusing a petitioner from a navigator House.
At this moment, a retainer hurried past the guards, carrying an encrypted letter, and walked towards him.
"This is an encrypted letter from the Beta-Garmon system, written by your dedicated astropath and sealed with wax," the retainer said. "I waited here for half an hour before I saw you come out; I hope I haven't delayed anything."
Tieron reached out his fat hand and tore open the letter.
The information inside made him smile for a moment, followed by some worry.
He glanced left and right, and after confirming no one was close to him, he lowered his head and said in a somewhat serious tone.
"Everything went smoothly, but now is our most dangerous moment. You must immediately return to the Regia and take my servants and family away from Terra. You can temporarily go to the region controlled by my family, towards Pluto. If you can't leave, then find a place to hide. Remember, don't let anyone discover your whereabouts."
Tieron had lived for several centuries; he had personally buried several of his wives.
And several children who hadn't lived to be a hundred years old.
Now, he had found a new wife and several mistresses.
With his sole effort, his family could be considered flourishing.
"Why, sir?" the retainer asked, puzzled. "You are the Imperial Regent? Why are you acting this way?"
"Someone will be driven to desperate measures. They can't retaliate against the Primarch, but they'll think I'll enjoy the fruits of this, and thus turn their focus on me. Leave, and be quick. When the Primarch arrives, everything will calm down," Tieron said.
"What about you, sir?" the retainer asked.
"I can't leave. I am the Imperial Regent, and I still have things to do. Moreover, if I leave, things will be exposed faster, and you won't even have a chance to leave," Tieron said. "Go, immediately. After you leave, I will also find an opportunity to leave."
"Understood, sir."
"Take this too, and dispose of it."
Tieron put the letter back in the envelope and told the other party to leave.
Afterwards, his expression returned to calm, and he walked towards the washroom.
After taking care of his needs, Tieron returned to his post, and the meeting resumed.
His task was to record the orders of the High Lords and execute them.
A few more hours passed, and suddenly all the High Lords froze, then showed panic.
They received equally explosive information from their communicators, compiled and translated by the astropathic Choir.
"Beta-Garmon," Marshal Puriyn of the Army said, trembling, naming a place.
Tieron also put on an expression of panic.
A nobleman's voice, close to weeping, echoed from the communicator.
"It's gone, everything is gone. Over ninety percent of the army in Beta-Garmon has embraced the Primarch. Those who supported us have been killed. Guilliman, Guilliman is about to arrive on Terra."
The faces of the High Lords were terrifyingly pale, and the massive mechanical body of Fabricator-General Lasky trembled uncontrollably, his mechanical parts emitting mournful sounds.
The Sigma Wise One had sided with Guilliman, and the tech-priests loyal to Mars were all placed under immediate house arrest or executed.
This news was undoubtedly still a huge blow to the Fabricator-General.
The Ecclesiarch of the Imperial cult was so frightened by the sudden news that he fainted.
The Saint of the Imperial cult had denounced the Imperial cult on Terra, declaring to the world that they were traitors and villains who defied the Emperor's will.
This was undoubtedly a fatal blow.
According to the doctrines of the Imperial cult, this meant that over ninety percent of the Imperial cult's high-ranking officials would be sent to the stake and burned to death.
It's over, everything is over.
The High Lords originally thought that this struggle would make Guilliman realize his mistake, compromise, negotiate with them, and continue to maintain this kind of rule.
However, the news from the Beta-Garmon system dealt them a heavy blow.
It also made them realize that they could not shake the Primarch's return at all.
The originally somewhat harmonious meeting quickly ended in an atmosphere of fear.
The news didn't take long to spread, reaching the ears of the other low-ranking senators.
The vast Senatorial Assembly was in chaos.
Everyone was stunned. Many of them were participants, and once the reckoning came, the consequences would be unimaginable.
The Primarch's victory was so simple; he didn't even mobilize a single soldier or fire a single shot, yet he took over all the armies in Beta-Garmon completely.
The nobles of Terra had completely forgotten that their power was built upon the system of the Imperium.
It was for this reason that the military forces of numerous Imperial worlds would obey their command.
They thought that deploying military forces to fight Guilliman was as simple as deploying military forces to fight Chaos traitors and xenos in the past.
They believed that war was just a game on the political table, a medal for promotion.
In the past, they would still listen to the voices of military commanders.
But in this bureaucratic and sluggish era, military power was suppressed by complex rules and procedures that were impossible to know.
The military commanders who truly controlled the forces were reduced to executors of bureaucratic orders.
Due to their loyalty to the Emperor, those military commanders could only obey those orders.
Terra's complex political game. Having developed to the present day, it had long lost its original purpose.
Many generals and marshals of the Navy and Army who had been active on Terra for a long time had actually never been to the battlefield.
Relying on their family's influence and their fathers' glory, they gambled in the arena of power, quickly rose through the ranks, becoming representatives of what seemed like the military but were actually bureaucrats.
The High Lords of Terra drove those military forces to fight for their interests.
Yet they never listened to the voices of those people.
The bureaucracy and the military were so disconnected that it was only the faith in the Emperor that held them together.
The High Lords thought dealing with Guilliman was the same as dealing with xenos and Chaos: mobilize forces, and then those troops would charge forward desperately.
The forces assembled in the Beta-Garmon system were indeed sufficient to hold off Guilliman.
But the High Lords only calculated the comparison of forces, completely forgetting that the reason those military forces were loyal to them was not because they were handsome or charismatic, nor because of the so-called power they claimed.
It was out of loyalty to the Emperor and loyalty to the Imperium of Man.
The High Lords' power came from the Imperium created by the Primarchs and the Emperor, from the system, not from themselves.
But Guilliman himself was a symbol of the Imperium, the Emperor's representative, and he also controlled technology and armies.
Their mobilization of troops to fight Guilliman was like trying to put out a fire with oil.
Not only did their original plan fail to achieve anything, but it also strengthened the Primarch's power.
The Primarch's arrival on Terra was already an unstoppable event.
Having already withdrawn a large number of forces, the empty Solar System was simply unable to resist the approaching expeditionary fleet.
Everything was over.
The High Lords still wanted to vigorously promote the theory of the Primarch's threat, attempting to incite the people of Terra and other planets in the Solar System to resist the Primarch together.
In that case, perhaps there would still be a way out, but what happened next left them completely stunned.
The unrest they had always ignored triggered a terrible crisis.
It could be called the most terrifying disaster on Terra in ten thousand years.
The High Lords, who had recovered from the news from the Beta-Garmon system, were preparing to mobilize the Imperial citizens of the Solar System to oppose Guilliman.
But before they could confirm the proposal, the crisis suddenly descended.
These fools discovered in terror that the sins they had committed by neglecting the lower classes in the past had now come to haunt them.
Famine spread, and corruption ran rampant.
Countless people were trapped in despair and darkness.
Because of this, the followers of the Blood God became more numerous, converging into a powerful force.
Even the Custodes felt helpless against this crisis.
The rioters had been performing blood sacrifices all along. Many times, these terrifying rituals were suppressed.
But ultimately, some succeeded. These blood sacrifices slowly accumulated, forming a large-scale blood summoning ritual.
Upon reaching a critical point, the warp was completely polluted by the ritual.
Those with psyker abilities screamed hysterically, claiming they saw endless blood and darkness spreading.
The boundary between reality and illusion grew increasingly fragile under the despair and madness of countless humans.
The sky turned a scarlet, bloody color.
The clouds also changed, becoming vividly colored and highly toxic, burning from within like fire.
The riots became uncontrollable, spreading like wildfire.
Daemons, using the flesh and blood of the ignorant, set foot on the soil of Terra.
An unprecedented disaster swept across Terra.
In a short time, the Adeptus Custodes bypassed the Departmento Munitorum, issuing multiple military martial law orders, and every available Astra Militarum unit was required to act immediately.
Tieron had intended to leave Terra to avoid the turmoil but was forced to stay due to being a step too late.
Fortunately, his family managed to board a ship and leave at the last moment.
As he was about to depart, daemons and rioters attacked the spaceport, causing it to be placed under martial law.
Now, no aircraft were allowed to take off or land to prevent the crisis from escalating further.
Tieron remained.
The High Lords were also forced to retreat to their strongholds to cope with the increasingly violent attacks from rioters and daemons.
Inside the Imperial Palace.
captain-General Valerius of the Adeptus Custodes had a grave expression, and Shield-captain Valerian stood behind him, his face equally grim.
Things had happened too quickly.
They had been monitoring the Brass Brotherhood and constantly dispatching Custodians to try and thwart them, to dismantle the organization.
However, hatred had driven the Brotherhood members to madness, and despite suffering heavy casualties, they continued to perform blood sacrifices.
In the past, such blood sacrifices would not have been enough for daemons to set foot on Terra.
But the traitor of yesteryear, the Despoiler Abaddon, had plotted a massive plan for millennia, tearing the galaxy apart and creating the Great Rift.
The emergence of the Great Rift had intensified the interference of the warp with the material universe.
Coupled with the blood sacrifices of the Brass Brotherhood, the denizens of the warp tore through the veil of reality, setting foot on Terra once again after ten thousand years.
Screams echoed throughout the city, and mortals cried out, running from their homes to churches and shrines, weeping loudly and begging the God-Emperor to save them from this terrible hell.
Valerius watched as the sky burned, streaks of scarlet lightning flashing across the equally scarlet heavens.
Flames erupted everywhere, and thick smoke billowed, visible even from dozens of kilometers away.
Blood and fire, these were the signs of an incursion by the Ruinous Powers.
He saw a fighter jet plunge into a towering building, followed by a massive explosion.
Using his authority as captain-General of the Custodes, he saw the scene inside the cockpit through surveillance footage.
The pilot had been disemboweled by a monstrous creature; the cockpit was a scene of carnage, with flesh and limbs flying everywhere.
The fighter jet had lost control and crashed as a result.
This was just a small part of the chaos.
A greater crisis was descending.
"Gather all our brothers," Valerius ordered Valerian, "We must act quickly."
Valerian nodded and turned to leave.
Soon, three hundred Custodians arrived from various locations; they were the first batch.
More were constantly arriving.
Alarms blared within the Imperial Palace; except for those with essential duties, all other Custodians rushed to Valerius' side.
The slumbering dead were also awakened, Dreadnoughts etched with the symbols of the Custodes lumbering with heavy steps into the assembly area.
Such a large assembly of Custodians was a very rare occurrence.
Only ten thousand years ago would they gather in such a grand scale to fight, to eliminate the warlords or enemies who resisted the Emperor.
After the Horus Heresy ended, they donned black robes and thenceforth acted alone, never again assembling on such a massive scale.
Valerius issued orders to the numerous Custodians, assigning them to various battlefields to prevent the crisis from escalating further.
After distributing the orders, Valerius looked at all the Custodians, "Only as He wills."
The other Custodians responded with the same words, and then there was nothing else said.
They departed quickly, just as they had arrived.
Soon, the mortal auxiliary forces, led by their respective Custodians, rushed to the outer palace to prevent the spread of the crisis.
The outer palace was vast, and without the assistance of the mortal auxiliary forces, the Custodians would be unable to defend every area.
Valerian was also assigned a defensive mission: to lead a force of over five thousand Astra Militarum troops to defend the vicinity of the Lion's Gate, providing mobile support to the mortal units that were struggling.
The Lion's Gate was the site of the most intense fighting during the Horus Heresy.
It is said that when that battle ended, the bodies on the ground were piled meters high.
Now, this area is filled with churches, and tall shrines to the Emperor are everywhere.
A majestic processional avenue stretches from the outer residential areas all the way to this region.
Over a hundred defensive towers have been built in this area, and Titans are also stationed here.
As the alarms sounded, all troops stationed in this area were ready for battle.
Automated gun batteries hummed mechanically, adjusting for the optimal firing angles.
Long-silent shield generators emitted a piercing whine, activating amidst the chants of the tech-priests.
Orbital defense stations would also operate at full capacity.
Core reactors rumbled, long-dormant plasma coils were reactivated, and massive energy conduits flickered with indicator lights, powering the lance arrays.
The void fleet of the Sol System would also be on high alert, conducting comprehensive scans in deep space.
However, none of this satisfied Valerian.
He found that the defensive lines, which should have been tight, had many loopholes.
The forces the High Lords had transferred to the Beta-Garmon system could not simply reappear.
They had drawn a portion of Terra's defensive forces and had also sent the food originally destined for Terra to Beta-Garmon to supply the army's consumption.
Valerian could foresee how terrifying the out-of-control crisis would be if they could not quickly suppress this uprising.
Terra was not self-sufficient.
It is said that in the past, Terra had its own food production facilities.
But with the development of the Imperium, those food production factories were gradually moved off Terra and transferred to other planets.
Because of this, Terra required countless cargo ships to provide enough food.
It had become increasingly vulnerable; once contact with the void was interrupted, the people here would fall into famine.
In the past few months, warp storms had made it increasingly difficult for cargo ships to reach Terra, but there were still cargo ships that could deliver goods, maintaining basic survival.
With the outbreak of the crisis, it became even harder for those cargo ships to deliver goods to Terra.
Supplies would soon be cut off.
People would resort to cannibalism due to famine, and then the Blood God would be even more exhilarated.
"We suffer because of those fools," an angry thought surfaced in Valerian's mind. Those damned Terran nobles and High Lords had hollowed out Terra's defenses like termites.
Those nobles had long ignored the interests of the lower classes, believing they posed no threat.
Now they would pay the price.
Terra would descend into riots created by the lower classes, and once the riots lasted too long and food could not be supplied to the troops, the troops would also mutiny.
Valerian could foresee the crisis within it.
Terra would face an unimaginable disaster.
Unsupplied mortals would even join forces with daemons to attack the Imperial Palace, just to find a bite of food.
Just thinking of that scene made Valerian deeply worried.
A roaring sound echoed, and several Valkyrie gunships streaked across the high altitude.
One of the Valkyrie gunships hovered and stopped in an open space near the Lion's Gate.
A man in uniform with the rank insignia of a Colonel on his shoulder ran down the ramp lowered from the Valkyrie.
"Lord Custodian," the man shouted.
Valerian turned his gaze towards him; he was a short but very strong man.
The other party had been implanted with a system to enhance the human body.
Behind the man were two other officers, wearing the same military uniform, with slightly different insignia on their shoulders.
"What's the situation?" Valerian asked.
"It's terrible, sir, rioters are everywhere," the man said, "Two of my astropaths have gone mad; they're screaming about blood and some terrifying monsters, and they're approaching here."
Valerian's expression grew solemn, and he stepped towards a lift platform.
The man hurried over, "Sir, could you share some information? What are those monsters? Are they daemons?"
"Yes," Valerian admitted, his tone heavy.
The man's face instantly turned pale, and his whole body trembled slightly.
"How could they be daemons!" he said with disbelief in his voice.
This was Terra, the sacred world of the Imperium and the dwelling place of the Lord of Humanity.
Since the catastrophe of the Great Heresy, daemons had never set foot here.
Under the protection of numerous monks, saints, the Inquisition, the Adeptus Custodes, and the Grey Knights, even cultists were quickly eradicated and killed.
Now, daemons had set foot on Holy Terra, what did this mean!!
Just the thought of it made the man tremble and unable to speak.
For humanity, there would no longer be a safe place in the entire galaxy.
Valerian glanced at the poor man, shaking his head slightly and sighing at the weakness of mortals.
"Prepare for battle; we have to drive them back."
With that, he stepped onto the lift platform, preparing to go up to the city walls.
The lift was a massive machine, entirely black, covered with various short-range guns.
A large force was also stationed on the city walls.
Large arrays of automated artillery were activated, and soldiers stacked sandbags and iron barriers to build fortifications.
Valerian passed them and stood at the edge of the outer palace walls.
From this position, he could see the scale of this crisis more clearly.
From south to north, everything was burning, and the clouds in the sky had also burned blood-red, leaving trails of black soot.
The air became hot, causing a painful sensation on the skin.
In the past, at least millions of transport ships would be taking off and landing, filling the entire sky of Terra.
But at this moment, Terra's sky seemed empty, with only armed military aircraft flying.
Valerian looked at the city; large numbers of citizens poured out from all directions, emitting piercing screams.
Daemons and rioters were killing everywhere.
Those poor mortals either joined them or were killed.
Imperial troops attempting to suppress them were overwhelmed by daemons and rioters, with only a few screams remaining.
"Terra above," seeing the rioters and daemons converging and heading towards the Lion's Gate in a massive horde, Valerian tightened his grip on his weapon, his tone becoming solemn.