Days later, Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels, who was en route to provide support, received a Warp communication, and its content was heartbreaking.
The senders of this communication were: Imperial Navy Admiral Cedric Hamilton, Commander of the Iron Judgment Fleet; Marshal Patrick Dias of the Astra Militarum's 19th Expeditionary Group; Arch-Magos Xion Farrell of the former Avarcalon Hive world Mechanicus; and former Hive world planetary Hal Kusman.
The Imperial industrial world, Hive world Avarcalon, located in the Iconoclast System, had already fallen into the hands of Chaos!
"No need to go to Avarcalon."
After silently browsing through the entire message, Dante's eyes lowered, his voice devoid of any emotion or fluctuation.
Several adjutants and company Captains of the Blood Angels, including the busy Tech-Priests, all cast puzzled glances at his words.
The Warp communication was encrypted, and only the Commander was authorized to view it.
However, the profound meaning contained in that sentence caused the complexions of everyone present to change several times, and finally, a Blood Priest spoke up to ask for the reason.
"Chapter Master, has Avarcalon—has it already fallen?"
Dante slowly closed his eyes, pondered for a moment, then sighed and said, "Yes, just two days ago, Hive world Avarcalon was occupied by Chaos. Apart from a small portion of the Imperial fleet that evacuated, none survived."
This news was nothing short of a thunderclap!
Especially the Blood Priest, as an adjutant, his face became extremely grim.
"How could this be? We were still a step too slow!"
They had tried their best.
But the Warp was turbulent, fraught with hidden dangers everywhere. Even though they had risked choosing the shortest route, they still couldn't make it in time!
Once Avarcalon fell, it meant that the Dark Angels legions located on Draconys and at the Giant Rock Fortress would be completely encircled by Chaos forces, with no support behind them.
"Just a little bit, just that little bit!"
The Blood Priest's eyes were filled with unwillingness, his bloodshot eyes nearly bursting as he glared at the holographic star map. They were just one final step away from Avarcalon!
If, if they could have held on for just one more day—no, even half a day, if they had been given just half a day more, the Blood Angels fleet would have reached Avarcalon.
But now, it was too late to say anything.
One step slow, every step slow—they had completely missed the opportunity to defend Avarcalon!
"Chapter Master, perhaps—we could try a forced landing?" The adjutant looked at Avarcalon, which was within arm's reach, still unwilling to give up.
"No."
However, his response was Dante's firm denial.
"A forced landing would only deplete our strength. Moreover, Avarcalon, having fallen under Chaos control, has lost its value. Even if we retake it, it would be useless."
worlds occupied by Chaos often have Daemon Forges established in a very short time.
The land and sky would be completely corrupted!
Even if they paid a huge price to retake Avarcalon, it would be futile. The Imperium needed a stable rear, not a world corrupted by Chaos.
"Then—destroy it completely!"
The adjutant's tone was chilling, his eyes filled with killing intent.
"Chaos will surely establish Daemon Forges after taking Avarcalon. We cannot let it become a boon for Chaos. Chapter Master, I am willing to lead ten squads to destroy the Chaos Daemon Forges!"
Dante's mouth twitched slightly. He glanced at the agitated adjutant, thoughts swirling in his mind, then said, "No need. Our most important task right now is to head to the nearest Draconys. According to intelligence—a large number of the Dark Angels' main forces are besieged on that world."
"???"
The adjutant had a look that said, 'Are you kidding me?'
Wasn't the most important thing now to cut off Chaos' supply lines and destroy the Daemon Forges?!
"Chapter Master," he began, then hesitated, looking at Dante.
"I think, rather than going to support the Dark Angels on Draconys, we should prioritize destroying the Daemon Forges while Chaos has just occupied the Hive world. Otherwise, even if we go to Draconys, we will face an endless stream of Daemons produced by the Daemon Forges in the rear!"
The adjutant's reasoning was correct.
If they didn't cut off Chaos' supplies and destroy those Daemon Forges, what good would it do even if they went to support the Dark Angels?
But the problem was, Dante's brows were almost tied in a knot. He pinched his brow, letting out a sigh. He really wasn't good at lying.
In fact, he had concealed something from everyone.
That Warp communication, including the news of Avarcalon's fall, was all a fabricated illusion. The true message was personally delivered to him by a Space Marine who mysteriously appeared in his resting chamber, accompanied by an ancient forest, and claimed to be a "Son of the Forest."
Dante had learned the entire plan from him, and also the news of Merlin's and another Primarch's coming home!
Using Chaos warships to attack Chaos forces—one had to admit, Merlin was very bold, even Dante was shocked.
But as the supreme Commander of the Imperium's Dark Imperium appointed by Roboute Guilliman, Dante keenly realized that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
If Merlin's plan could truly succeed, Abaddon's black Legion would also suffer heavy losses. At least in the short term, they would no longer have surplus strength to harass other worlds in the Dark Imperium.
Moreover, if this plan succeeded, the effects would be far more than just this simple!
Don't forget, there was still a Primarch, the Lord of the Ultramarines, the Imperial Regent, Roboute Guilliman, personally leading a fleet that had already crossed the Great Rift and was currently undertaking the Indomitus Crusade.
Dante was a qualified Commander; his vision was far superior to ordinary people. It was precisely because of this that he could perceive the terrifying power contained within Merlin's seemingly audacious plan.
This was no longer a simple rescue of a single legion, but a grand plan involving the Indomitus Crusade and the Imperium's reclamation of the Dark Imperium's territories!
"No more discussion."
This time, Dante had to act decisively. His gaze was stern, his voice severe.
"Immediately change course and head to Draconys!"
"Chapter Master!"
The adjutant looked shocked.
He didn't understand why the usually wise Chapter Master couldn't comprehend such a simple matter.
"Execute the order."
Dante gave him no opportunity, directly using his authority.
"I am now the Regent, the overall Commander of the Dark Imperium appointed by Roboute Guilliman. Inform the other fleets to all change course and go to Draconys to reinforce the Dark Angels!"
The adjutant opened his mouth, but seeing Dante's undeniable resolve, he ultimately fell silent.
"Yes, Chapter Master!"
Regardless of whether the Commander's decision was correct or incorrect, they had to obey and execute it before the actual outcome was known!
They could question, but they must execute.
Watching the departing adjutant, Dante sat in his seat on the command bridge, his gaze drifting towards the viewport, and he murmured softly, "Lord Regent and I have staked the future of the Imperium's Dark Imperium on this one, my boy. Don't disappoint us."
What Merlin didn't know was that his original plan, intended merely to teach Abaddon a lesson and incidentally save the First Legion, had inadvertently evolved into a decisive battle between the entire Imperium's Dark Imperium and Chaos!
The dark side of the Imperium.
Charadon Sector, a certain Imperium of Man, a Hive world and Agri-world.
It had long been occupied by Orks, and the temples that once symbolized the Imperium of Man, the spires representing the nobles' status, were now completely disassembled and fragmented, turning into tribes scattered across deserts and plains, filled with a crude, savage style.
Thick spores and poisonous mists floated in the atmosphere.
The gargoyles of cathedrals, the wrecks of Leman Russ tanks, and even the spires of the former Hive world, were all toppled by these savage Orks.
They were rebuilt into creations more befitting their style; abandoned engine oil flowed through drainage channels into those bizarre, crudely built structures, and under the roar of machinery, thick smoke billowed into the sky.
Both sides of the streets were packed with shops built by Ork Mekboyz; greasy stains covered the signs made of twisted chains, selling all sorts of firearms cobbled together from spare parts.
Closer to the center of the junk city, green-skinned monsters were everywhere, roaring and bellowing, engaging in savage brawls with everything they could get their hands on, including rocks, wooden stakes, and iron bars.
And at the highest point of the entire junk city, the palace that originally belonged to the planetary governor had been transformed into a Warboss' fortress.
The palace's outer walls were covered with trophies.
There were massive tusks, beast bones, chainswords, power armor, and even the heads of Imperial Governors, countless trophies; the entrance was a gigantic steel maw with several terrifying Squigs tied to its fangs, serving as an alarm system.
In the center of the great hall stood the Warboss' throne, a disassembled Leman Russ frame with chainswords looted from a Knight mech welded on as armrests, while the base of the throne was piled with the skulls of Human psykers, emitting a ghostly glow, and behind it stood an idol pieced together from junk.
Dim candlelight burned in the throne room.
And in the shadows, a truly terrifying, ferocious figure was seated.
It was not Human; it had a ferocious face, a gaping maw full of tusks, blood-red eyes, and exuded a tyrannical aura.
Clearly, this was an Ork.
He wore a lower jaw made of massive iron, crudely hacked into the shape of tusks, carried two giant tusks from an unknown dead beast on his shoulders, and behind him was a huge beast skull; as for the rest of his 'armor,' rather than armor, it was a battle-suit made of various 'junk' pieced together, with a twisted and bizarre style, yet possessing a crude and tyrannical aesthetic.
The weapon on its left arm was a blood-rusted, ferocious claw, while its right arm was a massive cannon.
"Ah ah ah—.."
It let out a pained growl.
Since that failure, it hadn't heard the voice of 'god' for a long time, which made it irritable and even more furious.
The metal implanted in its brain by the Mekboy seemed to throb with a dull ache.
At this moment, the sounds of fighting outside reached inside, making it even more agitated, and the faint pain from its injuries reminded it of that hateful Human warrior who had been hunting it!
"Sebastian Yarrick, Hebul Recite—" These two names were practically carved into its bones, accompanied by deep and bone-chilling hatred.
These two Humans had ruined its grand plan, even reducing it to this state, forced to cower in this small place.
It wanted revenge!
However, the scars on its body, a pain that seemed to touch its soul, brought it out of its hatred, reminding it that it needed to gather strength, it needed to wait!
Only by waiting could it launch a greater Waaagh!
"Too noisy!!!"
Its eyes flashed with a ferocious glint, and it suddenly rose from the throne, dragging its tattered armor, which clanged and clattered, and strode out of the makeshift tent. It immediately saw the Orks brawling outside the palace, its blood-red eyes filled with rage.
These guys were giving it a headache!
The noisy greenskin boys, upon being stared at by the massive figure, immediately forgot their brawl and looked at it.
Enraged, it immediately locked onto its targets.
Then, it strode over, the ground seeming to tremble, and in the fearful, reverent gazes of the surrounding greenskin boys, it extended its iron-forged claws.
Splat!!!
Those noisy greenskin boys were instantly crushed by its claws.
The gushing blood flowed from between the fingers of its iron claw, mixing with the air full of waste engine oil, and was deeply inhaled into its nostrils.
This sensation made it somewhat nostalgic.
The sticky touch of flesh and blood on its iron claws, combined with the surrounding frenzied shouts, made it feel a little better; it seemed only slaughter and war could soothe the intense pain in its head.
It understood; it needed a war!
A war that could satisfy its craving and wash away the shame of the Armageddon campaign; only then could it once again hear the divine will!
Perhaps its thoughts touched a certain place in the Warp, and a fragmented, flickering image suddenly appeared in its mind.
Before shattered Chaos structures, a Human, wielding a war-blade, was engaged in a brutal, bloody battle with numerous Chaos Daemons and warriors.
They seemed to be protecting something; many fallen Astartes lay beside them.
In the sky were flying Human warplanes and circling Daemon Fliers; a barrage of artillery fire rained down from orbital space, like dense raindrops, trailing streaks of light as they plummeted towards the world's surface, the rising intense glow and flames seemingly about to ignite the atmosphere!
Further away, like mountains, stood the 'Titans' upon the earth, unleashing their firepower to their heart's content; each earth-shattering roar carved massive scars into the ground, and with it, countless struggling Chaos Daemons were annihilated.
It saw Humans, it saw Chaos!
This, wasn't this the war it craved?!
"Boyz, I've found a war that can satisfy us, this is a Waaagh given to us by the gods, and it's not far from us, in a place called Dracoline!"
"Now, I've decided—I'm gonna show these gitz a thing or two, let 'em know who's the best fightin' race!"
"Let's smash 'em!"
"Steal their guns, smash their vehicles, and hang their heads on our flagpoles!"
"Follow me, crush them!"
"Make 'em kneel and cry out to Mork and Gork for mercy! Follow me, and I will lead you to victory!!!"
Through the image in its mind, it felt the blood in its body seemingly boiling, and it couldn't help but let out a roar, raising its sharp and ferocious claws.
"Waaagh!!!"
How could such an unprecedented Waaagh be without them?!
It, Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thrakka, is here!!!