After returning to the realspace, Thomas made his way to the bridge.
The Twelfth Legion's Chapter Master, Marquinius, spoke as soon as he saw the Chief Librarian enter.
"Ghana's Rock is a world of stone, with few xenos structures on the surface. The Mitu hide beneath the ground, so orbital bombardment has limited effect."
Thomas nodded slightly. "Then we must launch a ground assault and purge the Mitu below."
"The Augery detected severe signal interference in the subsurface regions of Ghana's Rock," Marquinius said, frowning.
Thomas reviewed the report, noticed the warp readings, and after a moment's thought said,
"It's likely the Mitu are using some kind of arcane device that disrupts Imperial electronics."
"My vox-psykers will assist your Legion," he added.
These vox-psykers served as principal battlefield communicators; unlike astropaths who transmitted across star systems, they handled shorter-range coordination of attacks and command signals.
Ordinarily, one had to possess the psychic ability to project thought into the warp to become a vox-psyker, an ability Librarians could only master after years of disciplined training.
But after the Black Emperor departed from Prospero, he had passed down Primarch Magnus's Enumeration techniques to the Legion's Librarians.
With the foundation of the Thelema mindstate, the Librarians swiftly mastered the first level of the mental states, clarity of thought, and emotional calm.
This improvement greatly benefited the Legion's archivists, who recorded histories and categorized vast data, and the remembrancers, who reviewed reports with newfound composure and efficiency.
Most crucially, it elevated the vox-psykers.
Previously, 196 Librarians had failed to reach the psychic stability required for vox duty. But after training in Magnus's second meditation, they could now transmit thought across small-scale battlefields with reliability.
Ramsey followed Marquinius and his honor guard into the Kumasi Mountains, the largest range on Ghana's Rock.
Marching within the column, Ramsey examined the Augur Matrix's geological scans.
"Formation date: approximately 27,000 years ago…"
"Highest peak: 9,250 meters, composed of clearly stratified rock layers…"
"Range lies atop uneven saline flats, possibly the remnants of an ancient seabed…"
When Ramsey had been an archivist, he often noted such terrain data in his battle records.
But now, as a newly promoted vox-psyker, those duties no longer fell to him.
Three hours later, the detachment descended underground.
Marquinius surveyed the tunnel and, after estimating its width, issued orders:
"Form teams of three. Ten teams per squad. Sweep for xenos."
Ramsey and another guardsman followed behind the Chapter Master into the mining passage.
After descending thirteen kilometers, Ramsey saw his tactical display fill with static; their comms dissolved into crackling noise.
Then he heard it, a low, mechanical whirring like a motor spinning up. Turning toward the sound, he saw a cluster of anemone-like creatures burst from the shadows.
"One o'clock!" he shouted.
Marquinius reacted a moment slower, raised his left arm, and fired a bolter.
The leading Mitu exploded under the blast.
More poured forth, eight-tentacled humanoids whose two lower limbs ran like humans while six upper limbs wielded energy blades, shields, and spears.
Marquinius charged, his power sword blazing, carving through a dozen Mitu in swift arcs.
One towering Mitu lunged at him, its twin arms bearing yellow-glowing shields. The sword met the shield, and the creature twisted its grip.
BOOM!
The shield detonated, sending a psychic shockwave that hurled Marquinius against the cavern wall.
The Astartes' transhuman frame staggered, momentarily stunned. The Mitu rushed in for the kill, but Ramsey extended his hand. A surge of bio-psychic electricity burst forth.
The Mitu convulsed as oxygen fled their blood; their bodies rebelled against them, muscles locking, spasming violently.
The towering one's anemone head burst in a spray of crimson foam, its limbs thrashing before collapsing.
Crack-crack-crack!
Bones shattered like firecrackers; the creatures fell in heaps.
Marquinius recovered and charged, cutting down the remaining aliens.
When the fight ended, he said to Ramsey, "Tell them, the Mitu under Ghana's Rock favor close combat."
"Understood."
Ramsey's eyes shimmered with motes of light as he entered the first meditation taught by Magnus, calm like a still lake. Moments later, he reached the second layer.
His mind unfolded outward, psychic pulses rippling through the caverns.
Within seconds, every member of Marquinius's force heard his thought-voice:
"The xenos below Ghana's Rock excel at close quarters. Their weapons are forged with arcane technology…"
The unengaged squads immediately adjusted their formation, Shadow of Order troopers taking point, gunners flanking both sides.
At the same time, Thomas and the First Company of the Twelfth Legion advanced into the Odumas Mountains, the planet's second-largest range, full of jagged peaks and winding stone.
They descended through narrow tunnels into a vast chamber within the mountain's heart.
There Thomas beheld a gigantic dome filled with mining machinery and roaring foundries.
At the center floated an enormous luminous orb, from which extended many metallic limbs. All surrounding domes directed beams of light toward that sphere, every ray converging on it.
Thomas sent a psychic order.
As a powerful telepath, he merged the minds of 120 Shadows of Order into a single, unified intent.
They advanced in perfect formation, twelve swordsmen leading the charge, their power swords flashing.
Gunfire roared like thunder; a hail of bolts tore into the ranks of the Mitu, shredding their bizarre forms.
Then Thomas saw it, a towering, three-meter-tall Mitu with eight writhing limbs and an energy weapon clutched in each hand.
Bolter shells exploded across its body, sparking against its arcane shield. Ripples of blue energy flared with every impact.
Suddenly, a stray round grazed past the Mitu and struck a strange metal device.
BOOM!
The device exploded.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The energy sphere above them detonated.
'No, the power core's exploding! A Chain reaction!'
Before Thomas could act, the ground split apart. The mountain quaked, collapsing in on itself.
A black chasm yawned open beneath them. Thomas, his men, and the onrushing Mitu all plummeted into the depths.
Tumbling and striking rock after rock, Thomas lost his grip on his staff. When he finally rose, battered, the Mitu were upon him.
One lunged, greatsword raised high.
Even before the blade fell, the force of its arcane energy shook the air.
The "Melee Scholar" sidestepped, crouching low.
SHRRAK!
The sword cleaved through stone. Sparks flew as the creature swept horizontally, its other limbs slashing with hooked blades in a seamless barrage.
Thomas barely kept pace, parrying, evading. The blows came like a storm.
But the "Melee Scholar" remained calm.
To the Hermit Pathway, combat was a truth to be studied, one of the hidden secrets of existence. The "Melee Scholar" sought to understand that truth.
His body moved with heightened precision, every motion analytical, every strike measured.
He observed, dissected, two-handed swings, one-handed thrusts, unpredictable arcs, all catalogued.
Then he saw it.
A flaw.
When the Mitu lifted its upper pair of limbs, the lower set briefly crossed paths, a momentary interference.
Thomas lunged in that instant, locking his arms around the creature's joint, where the anemone flesh met the torso.
He wrenched hard. Superhuman strength tore one limb free.
Then he pivoted and slammed his fist into the creature's head.
The anemone burst, spraying ichor. The alien collapsed, lifeless.
Thomas felt something within him break, or rather, transform.
He realized, quietly, 'I have become a true Melee Scholar.'
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu