Chapter 419: Typhus: Abaddon, You Motherf—
A battle far more violent and intense than before swept through the Gryhne System.
The joint fleet of the Wardens of Steel launched an attack on the Vengeful Spirit, which was urgently ascending. However, the main focus of the offensive remained on the Plague ships docked at the starport.
Void shields shimmered with violet ripples. Appearing suddenly through the Webway exit in the asteroid belt, a fleet led by three battleships of different classes pierced into the enemy formation from an unimaginable angle.
The only pity was that the true flagship of the Dawnbreakers still concealed its brilliance, sailing secretly on the other side of the galaxy. Otherwise, this battle would have been worthy of her debut.
BOOM!!!
The bright trail of a Nova Cannon shell tore through the void, striking the flank of a Plague ship.
A distinct yellow shockwave erupted from the impact zone. Corpses and ship fragments were ejected into the void. The ship, restrained in the docking area, wailed as it was dragged away by the shell embedded in its hull.
The force was so great that part of the starport was torn off.
Then the massive Retribution-class battleship, along with its escort fleet, scraped past the starport, which had turned into a mass of rotten creations, firing its broadside macro-cannons.
Spewing fire and destruction at any enemy ship remaining in its path, splitting the traitor army like an axe splitting wood.
Ships from various Chapters or the Imperial Navy followed behind the main force, gathering into small flotillas, raiding enemy ships forced to disperse by the advance of the grand fleet. With swift and determined attacks, they overwhelmed and destroyed the weaker heavy cruisers and grand cruisers in the enemy fleet, eliminating targets one by one before turning to the next.
For the traitors, these Chaos servants who were howling with hunger for conquering and destroying a planet a moment ago seemed to lose their focus and direction in an instant.
Almost all ship commanders screamed in horror and lost their will to fight because of the figure on the ground.
Their eyes subconsciously looked away when they glimpsed the Knight watching them in the fierce wind.
As if his appearance had already determined the outcome of the war.
The ships of the Death Guard and other traitors were left to fend for themselves. Only the Terminus Est, Typhus's flagship, and its escort fleet put up some resistance. They gathered together to fight back and maintain orbit around the planet, still trying to protect their master.
Their master was still on the ground, and the deadly threat from the void made them panic. At this moment, their hearts were torn between loyalty and fleeing for their lives.
Until the Warmaster's shout reached everyone's ears.
"Run!"
Like a bright light suddenly appearing before a confused school of fish on a cloudy night.
In this instant, everyone found direction in the void gradually covered by artillery fire and debris.
Typhus, still on the ground, also heard the roar echoing across all channels.
He watched the gathered Titans fall in an instant, watched forces far exceeding his own counterattack into the occupied hive city. Those scattered war beasts were enduring the siege of a full-strength Titan Legion, enemies of the same level far exceeding their number.
Mortals, Astartes, fleet, ground forces coordinated closely.
Astartes acted as spearheads raiding hard targets. The artillery of infantry and armored forces wiped out all enemies forming medium to large formations in the fire contact area like an advancing eraser. Air forces, those Stormravens and Valkyries, licked the earth again and again relying on their three-dimensional maneuverability advantages, overlooking the battlefield. The movements of Chaos traitors were fully exposed under their gaze.
"I will not lay down my arms!"
Beside the unconscious Chapter Master, the young adjutant guarded their leader.
Lord Cypher had disappeared somewhere again, leaving only those 'Fallen Angels' reminiscing with members of the Dark Angels who knew them.
"What you need now is cooperation."
A logistics officer said patiently: "Treat the wounded, replenish energy, change armor, and then rejoin the battle."
The rumble of transport vehicles suppressed the helplessness revealed in his tone.
In the areas once held by the Angels of Vigilance, inside those steadfast bastions, supply points and field hospitals were set up. Convoys spread along various captured and opened nodes. Reserve troops were ready to replace the vanguard troops the moment they ran out of ammunition.
"If you can keep up."
A Dark Angel said arrogantly.
This was a true Legion.
Typhus looked into the distance. An Imperator-class Nurgle Plague Titan was pierced through the head by a slightly smaller Warlord Titan.
Its shoulders were mounted with Rift Cannons, an advanced version of rift weapons capable of forcibly tearing open warp rifts across void shields.
Violent psychic energy burst from its joints, forming lightning in the material universe. The bound massive psychic energy made the Titan's figure flicker.
This meant it could twist physical rules at will, perform short-distance teleportation, and go to more complex battlefields, instead of being hindered by the chasm formed by towering buildings and ruins like other Titans.
I should be fighting on Gryhne, an obscure planet in the Obscurus Segmentum, not Terra or Macragge, right?
A brief doubt covered Typhus's mind.
He propped up his body in embarrassment, trying not to think about whether the screams of pain coming from inside that Titan with each burst of psychic energy belonged to an existence from another world.
Several bodyguards came forward and surrounded him.
These were the 'Blightlord Terminators', clad in heavy Cataphractii armor. Each of them was a veteran tested over ten thousand years, selected from members of the Great Crusade era.
Under the protection of his bodyguards, Typhus relied on psychic power to forcibly start a cargo elevator, leading the Death Guard into it.
"Abaddon, I need support!"
Amidst the sparks erupting from the collision between the elevator edge and the steel rails due to constant oscillation, Typhus shouted relying on the psychic communication link, but Abaddon had already begun maneuvering the ships around the Vengeful Spirit to leave.
Bravery and stupidity are often separated by a thin line, and the Warmaster was no fool.
The Vengeful Spirit relied on its powerful engines to climb. Its formidable firepower and ten thousand years of Chaos baptism made this ship unstoppable for a while, but Abaddon would not choose to take her on a counterattack with no return.
Anyone who had witnessed the scene on Cadia knew that ship-borne bombardment was useless against these monsters except for wasting precious evacuation time.
More likely, once the Vengeful Spirit was locked on, the shining light of doom would shoot it down in one blow.
"Let Vashtorr and his grand plan eat shit! We won't bury the entire Legion for his selfish desires!"
Abaddon's gaze didn't waver, focusing on the communication open to the entire fleet, ignoring Typhus's cry for help, shouting into the comms:
"Let us go elsewhere! Let us leave this battlefield to those who should bear it. We have more important and greater tasks."
The Warmaster could always find a decision that met the interests of the vast majority at critical moments, and like his father, gave his subordinates enough of an out.
The roar drowned out Typhus's cry for help, unifying the thoughts of the Black Legion and the Plague Fleet almost immediately.
Although they didn't know what the more important task was, precisely because it was important, they needed to escape danger and plan for the long term.
The top priority was to preserve their strength as much as possible, and then escape danger!
The wavering crowd immediately made up their minds.
'I'm still on the fucking ground!!!'
Typhus, still enduring all this, wanted to roar and question, but found the psychic communication cut off by Abaddon.
Khayon!
The image of the Thousand Sons sorcerer beside Abaddon immediately appeared in Typhus's mind.
You motherf—
Son of a bitch Abaddon!
That's my Legion!
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