Chapter 172 Regicide Chess (played)
“They have no manpower.”
Some gladiators were hit by artillery fire from the ground, and one of them died on the spot. Although the number of dead seems to be insignificant in a war, the number of warriors who can still fight side by side with the Lord of Red Sand at this time is only a few dozen that can be expressed with both hands. The loss of every life is a heavy weight that is extremely difficult to bear.
“They have no experience.”
A group of soldiers who could not solve the problem of reloading angrily dropped their guns and gnashed their teeth behind the hill, watching the vehicles of the city defense army guarding them. Pass through the low-lying passage. The mission delivered by Angron himself missed the only opportunity, and every failure of theirs would be a hidden danger for the future war situation.
"They have no reputation."
The flags with red background and black stripes were casually pulled down and burned by the Nukerian local army. Before the city of Kylia, this was just another gladiator uprising that occurred once in decades. They could not make anyone fear them, let alone mobilize the will of more slaves to resist. Angron and his warriors need military success and fame, and none of this can fall from the sky.
"But of course they can win," Morse said, waiting for further changes on the regicide board.
In the white area of the chessboard marked Desia City, Angron is discussing tactics with his warriors.
"We must operate in small groups," said the Primarch, "valuing life. I am completely opposed to carrying high-power explosives for one-man attacks without return, even if in the future, our numbers increase and unnecessary casualties Still to be avoided. Do not harm the civilians, the target of our hatred is the high-level riders, even if many of us do have a grudge against the spectators on the high platform."
The second half of his words caused a small internal dissatisfaction, but with Angron's insistence, this dissatisfaction was quickly narrowed and resolved. They are reunited.
"He needs to be careful," Morse said. "Not everyone is like him, with some weak kindness." After he finished speaking, he found that he still said the word.
"Hmm..." The emperor pondered, continuing to pay attention to the changes on the chessboard.
He noticed that the warriors around Angron seemed to be particularly easy to reach some kind of emotional unity. When he created the Primarch, he endowed almost every Primarch with equally modest psychic gifts, with the exception of Magnus, who was a full psyker. As for No. 12, he seems to have shown his talent in telepathic psychic abilities.
On the chessboard, the city that has been continuously disturbed has entered a preliminary state of defense. After a slow period caused by a long period of no external enemy intrusion, the mobilization of soldiers and the transportation of firepower are on the right track. Interestingly, the city is still not under martial law. Perhaps rather than the distant threat of the city being breached, the arrogant needs of the city's nobles and ruling class were more pressing for the garrison generals.
When the army huddles in the city or at the outposts around the city, Angron's gladiators will immediately launch assaults and harass the base. Their rear is in Desia, a city that has been jointly guarded by the forces of the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors, two legions that are particularly good at defensive warfare. This freed Angron from worrying about any future consequences.
When the Nuceria local army took the initiative to mobilize troops to attack, Perturabo used an attitude between generous gifts and forced demands, solemnly forcing a large number of artillery and rockets to He killed Angron and helped the primarch in the red sand attack the enemy.
During this period, the two expeditionary armies for the empire naturally could not waste time on the planet Nuceria for a long time.
The city of Desia on the surface is regarded as a temporary base for the expeditionary force. Perturabo and Rogal Dorn use Nuceria as the center point to advance their troops to the surrounding star areas. They have learned that there are several different areas inhabited by humans not far away, such as the Tower LS system. It's just that they are temporarily unable to locate the coordinates in that direction.
In short, the first planet to succumb to the peace talks between the two Primarchs was a planet named Aphore by the locals. There, Perturabo once again saw some familiar milky white bone materials. Abandoned here, they failed to trace the owner of these plastic materials that seemed to grow and metamorphose on their own.
Angron traced the pulse of war in his own way. For such a Primarch, it is unlikely that any existing teachings on systematic warfare would be entirely suitable to his will. He can only find his own path to war in war.
Soon after, the city-states under attack began to change their thinking and sent out mobile troops to conduct reconnaissance activities. The large number of improvised roadside bombs set by Angron caused numerous difficulties for their lightly armed patrols, while the tens of kilograms of high-yield anti-tank bombs and artillery shells strung together as improvised explosive devices hindered the activities of the heavily armed patrols. In fact, the patrol couldn't even find the rocket launcher Angron had set up.
If Angron has more warriors, he is essentially more inclined to involve the warriors themselves in volleys. In his inherent thinking, grenades and grenades are more like bluff weapons for superiors and are not suitable. A warrior who grew up in hot sand.
However, the reality is that in order to protect the few companions around him, Angron accepted the endless firepower and ammunition left by the Iron Warriors to replace the sacrifice of real people.
In any case, this flexible team greatly weakened the morale of the armored forces of the city army. The city of Hozan, which has the advantage of old night technology - they now learned the name of this city - Furious, their technological superiority was undermined by their cowardice.
After many attacks, Hozan City began to launch unorganized attacks. Their aircraft took off from behind the watchtower and flew towards the locked Desia. Naturally, these military attempts were easily suffocated by the Imperial Fists warriors defending the city.
"Primarch Angron, do you need assistance?" the company commander of the Imperial Fists asked, "these local defenders' indiscriminate attacks target the residential areas and production areas of Desia City. And some bricks of the Wall of Blood and Tears that the Tarke family was building were shaken off."
Angron responded with a smile: "If you want to launch siege cannons, company commander, tell us in advance. , I want to withdraw my soldiers from the war zone."
He is not opposed to using the power he already has at hand to fight. After all, it was his brother's care that saved them from the beginning. Angron did not. The unrestricted pursuit of illusory purity of stance in the concept of resistance - well, maybe this is also related to the fact that the empire's military technology is so easy to use.
In short, no matter how these high-level riders are gliding in the air on long silver wings, or lying down on velvet silk sofas, how sophisticated their sound wave disruptors and matter conversion beamers are, The rate of decline in their perseverance is tragic and terrifying.
What's more, after monitoring the attitude of the local people in the enemy's communication channel for the first time, Angron also gained a new understanding of the true control of the high-level riders over their people.
The war forced the bloody performances in the arena to come to an end, and an atmosphere of threatened security permeated the city of Hozan.
After losing the distraction of national entertainment, the people finally realized that there was nothing in their lives, and when they raised their heads, the people really began to think about why they had so little, and high-end The rider seems to own the whole world.
This, together with the warning of war that had not sounded in Hozan for hundreds of years, has shaken the dominance of the high-level riders over the people from different angles.
When the first rocket hit the watchtower of Hozan, the myth that the army under the high-ranking knights could not be challenged was quickly and ruthlessly broken in front of the entire city of Hozan, from the army to the people, Even though the actual losses were not small, the psychological and spiritual blows they suffered were still far greater than the actual military losses. The entire city was immersed in a silent shock, and the daily activities of work and life that were forced to suspend during each attack quickly turned this shock into dissatisfaction with the ruling class.
This negative sentiment reached a peak when the garrison of Hozan later publicly announced that they would not launch further attacks into Desia, partly in conflict with the high-ranking horsemen who dominated the country known as the Citadel Another group of nobles and a large number of people simultaneously attacked the garrison for being "indecisive, cowardly and incompetent", while the family that dominated Hozan was in trouble.
They could not understand why a group of gladiators had such abnormal tactics, military strength and discipline. In any recorded slave rebellion, some slaves did manage to break into the city, but this long and exhausting battle weakened the family's dominance in a way that the high-ranking knights had not expected.
For a long time, the high-ranking knights have lowered their heads to gaze at the arena, watching the cage where many dissenters, rebels, descendants of enemies and sinners, and helpless orphans fight in the cage. There may not be a superior sense of ridicule.
They gain inner security by watching gladiatorial fights, and use the meaning of slave existence to strengthen the idea that disobedient people have been shackled, locked in cages, and domesticated: these are enough to fight with bare hands. The powerful rebels of the beast are just toys in the hands of the nobles.
After the public competition stopped, high-level riders began to organize bloody gladiatorial performances privately, which intensified. The pressure from the outside world was released on the heads of the lowest slaves in Hozan, with a certain sense of urgency that the end was approaching. Under normal circumstances, high-level riders would consciously control the mortality rate of gladiators to avoid finding that their toys have been consumed one day, but now, they have reduced their conscious scruples.
In addition, some civilians on the high platform gained the same sense of pride as the nobles while watching the gladiatorial battle, and these people panicked and defected faster than anyone else.
For them, the flag with a black background on a red background signified that a group of terrifying beasts from neighboring countries broke out with great force from their broken chains and broken cages, and they believed that these beasts must They will threaten their own lives after killing all the guards. In the city of Hozan, the security balance system that Nuceria had built over hundreds of years was instantly broken. They began to ask the ruler of Hozan City to protect their lives.
This trend was exploited by other factions in the nobility, and thus intensified. After all, some people often believe that crisis is a good time to exercise power.
This battle caused almost no loss to Angron's side, and many people even gradually stepped out of the shadow of the gladiatorial arena through this promising battle that was led by them and achieved results.
Angron himself was immersed in the battle. Instead of being disturbed, his thoughts became more and more awake. He clearly knows the reason for every instruction he makes, and can also answer why he is fighting. Deep in his heart, he gradually made a decision.
When Angron led the gladiators to knock down the watchtower of Hozan and used light vehicles to break through the chaotically defended city of Hozan from the front, the gladiatorial arena in the city finally took the opportunity to launch a riot. Some slaves did not break the chains on both wrists and rushed out of the cave swinging two iron ropes. The double oppression of high-ranking riders took away the possibility of their survival, and gathering under the banner of Angron became their only way out.
Similarly, compared to the real threat posed by the gladiators of Hozan, mass panic is the real thing that captures the lifeblood of Hozan City. After a long period of preparation, this frontal assault took no more than thirty hours in total from entering the city gate, conducting urban combat, to breaking through the royal palace of Hozan. The Guards' silver vine mechanical tentacles and advanced guns are extremely powerless in urban warfare.
If we include the incident of several gladiators finding the stairs leading to the top floor of the palace, planting their flags on the top of the highest palace in Hozan, and making their symbols flutter in the air, then the time spent is Within thirty-one hours.
Angron specifically asked the warriors to bring the supreme ruler of Hozan City to him, and burst into laughter when he discovered that the so-called ruler turned out to be a five-year-old child with weak legs and feet.
He leaned over and rubbed the child's head, and recognized from the child's rough palms that this child might be a laundry slave.
"This is what they chose." Angron said solemnly, tearing up the list he had prepared.
He originally planned to let his gladiators execute high-ranking knights whose crimes deserved to be listed on the list. After all, the pressure on the warriors needed to be released.
“Kleist,” he said, “please help me find the genealogical records of the ruler’s family history, and then find the gladiators of Hozan and tell them that they can carry the genealogy records of the ruler’s family. The head comes to me. Also, can you help me find the real master of Hozan?"
The female gladiator readily agreed and left like a dancer on her long knife. Thirty minutes later, a nobleman wearing a messy linen bag knelt at his feet.
"Stand up." Angron said, pulling the nobleman up from the ground.
When the other party could barely stand firm and put on an awkward and flattering expression that hid resentment, intending to accept the new conqueror as his master, he tore the other party's flesh and blood, letting the blood and internal organs pour out. .
"Do me one more favor, Kleist." Angron wiped the blood from his face and said calmly, "Go and ask the correspondents left by my brother's army if they can help me. Contact Terra."
His gaze passed through the long hall and fell on the horizon. Today's clouds are the iron-gray color of weapons and equipment, covering many of Nuceria's high walls and towers that have not yet been breached. The war will continue on the ground and will never end.
And he had just liberated a city with his own hands. In the future, as his two brothers said, they will bring liberation and new life to more planets.
"I think... we can carry out the next liberation together with my future army." The Lord of Red Sand said.
Kleist grinned, the scar making her face distorted and wild. Based on those vague impressions, she saluted Angron with a very informal military salute.
Terra, Himalayas, Royal Palace.
"Then, this regicide chess game is over." Morse raised his hand, and the spiritual energy was peeled off like a silk thread, and the illusion of Nuceria disappeared from the top of the chessboard, like smoke. He took it back into his palm that was wrapped in black cloth with flashing runes.
He closed the chessboard and smiled at the Emperor.
"Go." The emperor nodded.
(End of this chapter)