"Thunder Hammer."
The Primarch's voice was calm, but the accompanying psychic pulse burned like lightning in Wilshire's mind.
The Shadow of Order quickly processed the incoming data, understanding the meaning of the Aspect Paths, the Warrior's Way, and the meaning behind the emerald-armored warriors before him.
'Striking Scorpions.'
He also knew their characteristics: they wore heavier and more durable armor than most.
The weight of their armor slowed them, but its protection rendered boltguns nearly useless, only concentrated fire from multiple guns could bring them down.
Wilsheer slung his boltgun over his back and drew the Thunder Hammer from his waist.
At the same time, he noticed that the Primarch's dense hail of rounds struck the same points on each Striking Scorpion with perfect precision.
The Scorpions emerging from the shadows fell in clusters, as if they had impaled themselves on explosive shells.
Wilsheer knew he could not match the Primarch's blistering rate of fire, nor his unerring accuracy in hitting the exact same spot.
He pressed the rune-engraving on the hammer, and blue power-field light flared to life.
Raising the thunder hammer high in both hands, Wilsheer brought it down upon the head of a green-armored Aeldar.
The disruptive energy field shredded the Scorpion's helm, reducing its skull to pulp.
The Striking Scorpions did not falter; they were as deadly as their name implied.
Those inducted into the Scorpion Shrine were cruel and utterly without mercy, the wrath of Khaela Mensha Khaine made flesh, unleashing sudden and brutal slaughter upon their foes.
The thunder hammer struck against a chainsword, and Wilsheer felt the Scorpion's greater strength, their bodies more robust than their kin.
Lowering his stance sharply, Wilsheer slammed into the Aeldar.
The impact hurled the Scorpion backward, and he swung the hammer in Form 23 of the Otsber-Vaya, smashing into the enemy's head.
The Otsberg-Vaya was a mandatory discipline in the Eleventh Legion, taught from the earliest days of recruitment.
Under the instruction of Bredshaw and Hollis, even recruits from Terra had mastered the homeworld's sword arts.
They refined the Otsberg-Vaya into techniques suited to their own weapons.
Nareth drew his power sword and strode forward.
A dampening field dulled his senses, yet he could still grasp the broad strokes of the battlefield.
In his Warp Insight one Aeldar burned brighter than all others.
Nareth advanced toward that glow, rallying members of the Honour Guard along the way.
On his path, the Primarch met Aspect Warriors from every shrine: the lithe Howling Banshees, masters of close-quarters slaughter; the Warp Spiders, striking without warning from teleportation.
Wave after wave of combat saw Nareth updating his data on Slau Dha.
He knew that Aspect Warriors who had walked multiple Paths and mastered the various faces of the War God could choose to set foot upon the Command Path.
The Path of Command stemmed from the leaders of ancient Aeldari myth, the heirs of Eldanesh, Ulthanesh, and Bellerian.
A warrior who completed the Path of Command would bear the title of Autarch.
If the Farseer was the Craftworld's guide and counselor, the Autarch was the commander and general of its armies.
With a perfect understanding of the art of war, an Autarch could serve as the supreme leader of the Craftworld's forces, leading their warhost into battle.
'Slau Dha's warhost gathers Aspect Warriors from every shrine I know. He may not have walked every Path to its end, but he's trodden most of them, perhaps even dabbled in all.'
'For him to unite so many shrines with conflicting doctrines under his banner, his leadership, tactical skill, and personal combat ability must be exceptional even among Autarchs. He is not merely a schemer; he is a warlord.'
Nareth led the remaining four hundred and eighty-three Honour Guards onto the battlefield, his gaze locking on Slau Dha.
The Autarch wore ceremonial robes, the symbols upon them formed of two parts:
The upper portion is an upright triangle with two lines extending perpendicularly from its sides.
The lower portion is a curved hook passing through one long and one short horizontal line.
Slau Dha wore the mask of a Howling Banshee; in his left hand, a Fire Dragon fusion gun; on his back, a Warp Spider jump generator.
But in Nareth's sight, the most brilliant light was in Slau Dha's right hand, a sword.
Its narrow blade was etched with mysterious runes, cold light of blue and silver flowing within the steel.
A spirit crystal was set into the hilt, its psychic glow shining through his long fingers.
In the Briber's Warp-Sight, its brilliance fell short of a power fist, yet surpassed other relics such as the Dice of Prophecy.
'Above Beyonder Sequence-4, but below Sequence-1, likely Sequence-2 or Sequence-3.'
"Nareth!"
Slau Dha's High Gothic was impeccable, his Terra-accent crisp, yet tinged with the cadence of the Aeldari tongue.
"Your fate is sealed, you will die this day!"
The Autarch made his proclamation and then began to direct his warhost of more than a thousand warriors.
Guardian defenders formed a tight front line, unleashing a hail of monomolecular darts at the Shadows of Order.
Arsena and his gyrinx raised a "protective field" with a flare of blue eyes and telekinesis.
The monomolecular darts clanged harmlessly against the barrier.
Slau Dha maneuvered his forces into a three-dimensional assault,
Windrider jetbike squadrons swooped from above; Striking Scorpions infiltrated to strike from the rear; Howling Banshees charged the Honour Guard's flanks; Warp Spiders teleported straight into their formation.
Nareth's consciousness spread outward, linking minds with the Honour Guard and his gene-servitors.
His orders flashed instantly into the minds of every Honor Guard.
The Shadows of Order responded with machine-like precision: marksmen raised boltguns and cut down jetbikes with concentrated fire; warriors with thunder hammers, like Wilsheer, turned to smash the Scorpions; the finest swordsmen met the Howling Banshees head-on; the swiftest Guardsmen raced to hunt down the Warp Spiders.
Slau Dha was shocked. Under the Primarch's command, this "Mon-Keigh army" stood firm against his far more numerous warhost.
Even in the melee, the black-armored warriors were achieving a kill ratio of one to four against his elite.
'A Primarch, truly the war-machine of the Mon-keigh Lord. He is outmatching my mastery of the Path of Command.'
And worse, Slau Dha saw that Nareth understood the traits of each Aspect Warrior shrine in detail, even those fighting humans for the very first time.
'Impossible… unless he possesses foresight equal to a Farseer who has completed the Path of the Seer.'
Slau Dha's grip on the Sword of Vaul tightened, his gaze freezing cold upon Nareth.
'Nareth must die, he is a mortal threat to the Aeldar, and an obstacle to our grand design.
He must never become the Monkeigh Lord's weapon.'
The Autarch issued his command without hesitation: all warriors of the warhost were to launch a death charge at the Honour Guard.
At that same moment, Slau Dha himself moved.
...
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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