Chapter 262 154-4
+...Is he still there? +
In the communication constructed by psychic energy, Curze's low voice could not cover up the grinding sound of his clenched teeth.
Conrad Curze was multitasking. He was temporarily sitting in the Anvilarium reception hall of the Iron Fist, chatting with Fulgrim about the aesthetic features of the empire's hive, and following The camouflage battle scars painted on the faces of the mortal soldiers of the Faria company that Vulcan participated in the expedition were mixed in various colors.
As for Rogal Dorn, he has his own Phalanx - of course Fulgrim also brought the Emperor's Pride, but...all in all, he seems to be very interested in Ferrus Mar Nus's ship is quite familiar.
+Is he still confronting Vulkan? +
+Victor knows what it means to assess the situation, Curze,+Morse replied, watching how the Pied Eldar helmsman controlled the ship to sail in the webway,+To be precise, he was thrown on the head by Vulkan After grabbing a stone, he knew it was time for him to escape. +
+Which planet does the Eldar exiles occupy? +
+The time they lived together with humans was so long that they were able to spread sword cats all over the world. The buffoon on my side is calling them the Grass-eating Monkey Society, and Perturabo is sparring with that buffoon... oh, it's over. +
In the psychic channel, Curze fell into silence for a period of time.
+What do you want to do? + Morse asked.
+...Send my accompanying auxiliary troops to the vicinity of Ibson through the webway and stand by. No attacks allowed. Do not show offensive intent. +
——
During Shanadore’s career as a world singer, which was not too long, she had listened to songs of death and rebirth many times.
A handful of snow fell from the branches, revealing a few green shoots. Snowflakes fell into the sparkling clear pond under the waterfall, and the bones of a black-scaled swimming fish were melting into the mud.
Life rotates under the gaze of the soul of the world, and the exiled relics also wake up with the daily light.
Farming, weaving, letting the light dye the wheat fields yellow, feeding the mammoths, and...human beings who also live on this planet, if they like this name so much, take care of them and fall into the tribe. pterosaurs, bandaging their injured wing membranes.
But the war broke out on the land.
Xanador touched the violent soul of the world and sang sadly in a low voice, weeping for the rage and pain coming from the soul of the world. The war has touched this desolate and peaceful land, the flow of life has been shortened, and deaths have increased abnormally. She was in unbearable panic and in great pain.
The desert has been destroyed. The trees were burned, the riders of the same race wailed under the fire of Burning Heaven, and the invaders, the war was also bringing pain to the invaders.
Ah, why do they want to inject the boiling fire in their blood into the world of Ibsen?
Every moment water drops fall from the stalactites engraved with runes, thousands of lives are dying.
Xana Dole kept singing in vain, squeezing out the remaining harmony and hope in her heart. The pure singing voice enveloped the spiritual energy, communicated with all things she was familiar with, and injected into the withered forest around her. The half-burned forest trees quickly withered, and the new tree buds absorbed the nutrients of the fallen trees and quickly regenerated into a lush jungle within a few minutes.
She hoped that this would be able to stop the intruders a little bit, but her efforts were always in vain.
From the ice field to the wilderness, defense nodes were gradually breached one by one. The intruders, armed with flamethrowers and wearing dark green heavy armor, were already so close.
Soon, the heavy blow of the giant hammer sounded not far away. They were approaching the World Temple, and it was impossible to resist.
For a moment, she wanted so much to jump into the deep pool, return to the gurgling river of souls deep in the World Temple, and escape from this land filled with mourning. Isha!
Xanador took a deep breath, drew out a long sword engraved with runes, and then picked up her witch staff. If she dies, the spirit of the world mourns her.
Before she left, she looked back at the door in the temple. Since she had been the world singer for decades, she had only seen the webway door open once.
Just a few days ago, a strange blood relative who claimed to be a Dark Eldar suddenly broke into the house. The stench of the killing of Khaine's descendants lingering on his body made her hair stand on end.
However, he did not bring blood, but only asked whether it was possible for this place to join the Midnight Court in an eternal city.
After her refusal, the Bloodkin left the World Temple and later joined the battle against the invaders. She didn't know what their current situation was.
If they really come here. she thought. Then, she can only join the fight.
——
The air is filled with blood mist, and blazing flames are burning everywhere in the green jungle, as well as the ashes left after the flames burn out.
Highly mobile Eldar warriors riding pterosaurs rushed towards them from the side of the battlefield, while Eldar Knight mechas equipped with holographic force field shields, pulse lasers and psychic spears occupied the midfield of the battlefield, clinging closely to them. Behind him are the protected obelisks and snow-white boulders.
After the Eldar wizards are dispersed among the various fire units on the battlefield, they add additional psychic effects to the main high-intensity combat units in the front, giving them lightning-like reflex speed, phantom-like agility to bully the enemy, and stronger fire effect.
Energy beams intertwined in the hot air, and the long-range deflection bypassed the bunker. The firepower of this group of Eldar destroyed the troop transport vehicle in the front row. The Space Marines used this to leave the armored vehicle and suddenly jumped around the ground. vines and tree roots, or crush them directly.
The double dragon's breath breaths fire and roars, burning the ferocious and savage scales of the lizard-like creatures of the Eldar, causing their blackened wounds to spurt out dripping blood. These are tempered in the furnace of war. Warriors and commanders are injecting the will of Prometheus into the entire battle.
After this round of attacks, if they can knock down the knights in the front row who are attracting firepower, they can open up the situation at this node that is exceptionally well-guarded for some reason and create a greater attack advantage. .
High in the sky, the Storm Eagle fighter jets circled in the wind, thunder and lightning that penetrated the sky and the earth. The witchcraft of the Eldar here triggered a natural attack, and thick electric lights chased the exhaust smoke of the fighter jet cluster.
In the Salamander Legion, the Pyroclastic Team plays the role of destroyer. If it were not to exterminate the aliens, Vulkan, the Primarch of the Salamanders, would not easily mobilize this team.
Now, these warriors wearing exquisite armor made of obsidian crystals from the Nocturne volcano are arranging their salamander leathers among the Storm Eagle fighters, standing on the Storm Eagle. At the hatch, waiting for the fighter plane to approach the Eldar node in the dense forest.
According to the probe's report, on Planet 154-4, the Eldar have mainly established three tightly protected nodes, located in the desert, ice sheet and jungle.
After a series of judgments and trade-offs, the Legion gave priority to the desert as the first point of attack, followed by the jungle. The battle in the jungle is not yet over, but the Space Marines are steadily destroying the Eldar defenses bit by bit.
When the good news came to Vulkan, he knew that he should be happy about it.
The giant lowered his head and sat on the ground in the temporary tent, looking at the photo that was taken.
In the photo, an indigenous woman is crying in pain against the dark green scales of the Flame Guard. The woman's child also nestled at the warrior's feet, eyes filled with tears. Under the signal from Vulkan's eyes, the Primarch Guard acquiesced to the native woman's sobs and turned to gently comfort her.
Imperial military scholars believe that these natives are weeping with joy at their liberation from the Eldar. Vulgan vaguely knew that things might not be like this in the world.
Subsequently, Vulkan stopped the mortal soldiers from secretly filming. He did not want anyone to mistake the Emperor's warriors for the Saviors of the world. No, they are just warriors.
"How many Eldar nodes have you won, brother?" a voice sounded.
The holographic image of Ferrus Manus quickly took shape, and his figure soon became clearly visible. A steel-armored giant with black hair like shale and silver eyes like ice, holding a helmet in his hand, sat on the command chair.
"One, I think. Soon there will be two." Vulcan said gently, "If you are here, this victory may become easier to win."
< br>"I'm coming." Ferus's words were as brief as ever, "Within twenty hours, I will arrive where you are."
"Are you here?" Vulkan Somewhat unexpectedly, "Didn't you and Fulgrim head to the planet Nostramo?"
Ferus looked calm. "That's exactly why I'm coming here." He said, adjusting the position of the camera so that the images of the other two people present were partially reflected in Vulcan's eyes. Fulgrim, the dazzling purple-robed phoenix, leaned behind Ferus' seat, tapped his fingers and nodded slightly to Vulkan.
“Hello, Fulgrim.” Vulkan said, his attention quickly drawn away by the person beside Fulgrim. The soft black hair formed a surprising gap with the extremely pale face, and the oversized black eyes created a shadowy coldness.
His thin lips were pursed tightly, and the scrutiny he cast was almost offensive. Even so, this did not cover up the unique extraordinary magnanimity of the original body in him.
“I am Konrad Curze.” said the strange original body. The Gothic accent with many consonants had an indescribable elegance and agility.
Somehow, this rare agility made Vulkan feel familiar, but he didn't like it.
"...Nice to meet you." Coz said.
"It's nice to see you again, too. Curze wants to witness a battle of the Imperial Army." Fulgrim said. "And you still have half of your battle in 154-4, Vulkan."
Although Konrad Coates didn't look happy, this was a good one. ’s start. Vulkan thought.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my brother." He said, his dark face smiled, and his rich voice contained enough warmth. "In case you want to know, we are at war with the Eldar. Do you know about them?"
"I know a little bit about it." Cozz said, taking the projector handed to him by Ferus and sitting down next to him. "Can you give me a brief introduction? Why do they appear on this human planet?"
"We don't know," Vulkan said, "but Ibsen has rare mineral resources. We will bring it into the empire's territory. To do this, the Eldar influence here must be stripped away. ."
"Ibson?"
"154-4, Expedition Fleet No. 154, the fourth conquered planet," Vulcan said silently. , "The name of this world was Ibsen."
"In your eyes, what is the difference between them?" Cozz asked.
"Huh?" Vulkan felt a little unhappy about this question, and he soon discovered that it was his own problem. The Fire Dragon Lord exhaled and felt a scorching heat rolling over the tip of his nose.
“We number the planet with numbers, but the indigenous culture gave this planet another name.” He said. "That's the difference, I think."
Koz licked his lips. His lips seemed to have been bitten frequently, and there were some small scars that had not healed.
"You care about the natives of 154-4, my brother." he said. "Why?"
Vulkan sighed. "The glory of the Empire has not yet shone upon them, brother."
"Just that?" Curze asked, his expression showing that this was an unexpectedly serious question, but Vulkan was not sure how to answer. For some reason, this brother made him feel a little uneasy.
“Saving the people, this is what we should do.” Vulkan replied.
"What if it is impossible for them to integrate into the empire? What if they are difficult to save for some reason?"
"Conrad?" Fulgrim's voice floated up, seeming to want to To stop Curze's serial questioning.
Vulkan approached the projection. "There's always a way out," he said, feeling numb. "We are born of fire."
——
When the Iron Hand team landed, on planet 154-4, the node established by the Eldar in the jungle had been captured by the Salamanders. Space Marines carried the bodies of the Eldar for centralized processing.
Few of the natives were harmed, but the Emperor's warriors did frighten them. They hid in the sparse trees and watched in horror as the soldiers built a new camp here. Most of these people are women and children.
When they found the Fire Dragon Lord, the dark-skinned, red-eyed giant was talking to a mortal.
The mortal, wearing very inconspicuous coarse cloth, squatted in a pile of corpses composed of dead scouts, trying hard to raise his head and look towards the body, which was too tall even for a Primarch. Vulkan, explaining why he stood out and was not killed on the spot.
"I hid it well, you have to believe me." The young man said. "That's how I survived."
"Your name?"
"Fas. Believe me, there really is a fourth node on this planet..."
"My lord." A guard reminded Vulkan. "Your brothers are here."
Afterwards, several Flame Guards knelt down on one knee and paid tribute to the three Primarchs.
Vulkan turned around, revealing a battle-scarred face; the suffering left by the expedition condensed into deep compassion in his red eyes.
"My brothers." He opened his arms to several people.
“I don’t dare to hug you, Vulkan.” Fulgrim smiled, “My back is still hurting.”
Vulkan retracted his hand and turned to He stroked the back of his head.
"Are you Konrad Kurtz?" he said kindly.
Cozz twitched the corner of his mouth. "Hello, Vulkan."
"Looks like you don't have proper armor yet?"
"Maybe." Curze nodded, noticing the mortal behind Vulkan. The mortal met his gaze and waved energetically.
"Where will the next battle be?" Curze asked.
"I really recommend that you believe me," the mortal began to wave his two hands at the same time, "154-4 has a core node, why not destroy it?"
"Who is that?" Curze walked towards the mortal who was currently sitting in the pile of corpses, frowning slightly.
"A survivor." The mortal shrugged, "Don't care about me...but care about my intelligence, Primarchs."
(End of this chapter)