"Tarko, record this down…"
Eden's voice was gentle yet forceful as he gave the order:
"The forging of Fortress-pattern Titans is not some reckless advance, but a substantial escalation in firepower with real battlefield value.
Humanity still stands on the brink of the abyss, hanging by a thread.
The Forge Divisions are authorized to restart the Fortress-pattern Titan research project and will receive ample budget to construct even more powerful engines of war.
Only more colossal, harder-hitting weapons and engines can unleash storms of annihilation upon xenos and heretics, only they can safeguard the borders of the Imperium.
This is a work of glory.
We humans shall usher in a new age of prosperity and rebirth and dominate the galaxy!"
Eden opened his mouth and immediately started "speaking in slogans," line after line of high rhetoric.
But that could not be helped.
As the Savior and Imperial Emperor now, he could not speak too casually in public. He had to make his stance and viewpoint clear.
This was him issuing directives to the Forge Divisions.
Simply put, it was: hurry up and research even bigger, meaner Fortress-pattern Titans for me, mount even heavier ship-grade main batteries on them—the kind that can blast heretics and xenos into fine paste.
As for the budget, there was nothing to worry about. So long as you dare to ask, I, the Savior and Imperial Emperor, dare to approve!
In short, start overtime and get to work immediately.
Humanity's revival and prosperity rests on your shoulders. If you get it done, glory and rewards will be piled on without limit!
Of course, this was only the Imperial Emperor's verbal expression. Afterwards, his secretariat would fully internalize and polish his directive.
They would then turn it into a more rigorous document to be transmitted down to the Forge Divisions and coordinate the organization of this entire forging project.
A project of such scale required the cooperation of multiple departments.
Amid the thunder of artillery on the battlefield, Eden finished issuing his instructions to the Forge Divisions. This was also to buy time.
After all, the demand for practical firepower had always been a top priority for the Savior's Dominion. It was something that could not be delayed.
For the Imperium of Man, there is no such thing as "enough" firepower. The more the better, the fiercer the better.
Eden had just finished giving his orders when he noticed the gazes of Lion, Guilliman, and the other Primarchs.
Those eyes were filled with a hunger for overwhelming force, and, frankly, looked a bit pleading.
He immediately understood and waved his hand grandly. "Once the new batch of Fortress-pattern Titans rolls off the lines, each of us brothers gets one!"
His Primarch brothers were obviously drooling over Fortress Titans.
Who would not want such terrifying firepower? Especially for siege operations—blows harder than any general's artillery, a single salvo enough to cripple an enemy fortress.
"Good brother."
The Primarchs were delighted by how generous the Savior was.
In the past, none of the other Primarchs would ever share any of their war engines. They would keep everything for their own Legions.
Let alone something as precious as a Fortress-pattern Titan.
"Brother Eden, on behalf of the Knights of Caliban, I thank you for your gift…"
Lion was genuinely moved.
He could feel the generosity and warmth between brothers here, so different from the long-standing grudges and feuds between Primarchs during the Great Crusade.
This magnanimity of the Savior, this refusal to draw lines of "yours and mine," earned him even more respect and goodwill from the Lion.
Lion now somewhat understood why the Emperor—their father—would choose the Savior as the Imperial Emperor.
Only this way could all those past grievances be dissolved.
If any other Primarch took the throne, there would inevitably be brothers who refused to accept it, creating cracks in Imperial unity.
"Our firepower still is not enough. We have to prepare for the worst…"
Eden had just walked out onto the viewing platform of the bastion's balcony when scattered artillery shells came streaking in, only to be stopped cold by the shielded force fields.
He looked at the scorched, blackened scar gouged into the ground to the horizon by the lance weapon and murmured.
The other Primarchs, hearing this, all felt numb.
The Savior was really good at praising himself—by his own standards this was pure humblebragging.
Yet Eden was not boasting. He was genuinely worried that humanity's firepower was still far from sufficient.
It was hard to deal with the new threats out there.
For example, the most recent abomination to appear—whether it was an avatar of a Dark God or some resurrected form of Horus—even the fleet's shipboard guns struggled against it.
If the Savior's Dominion had not researched the Armor of Redemption beforehand, he would probably not even have a way to respond.
As the Chaos Gods escalated their own military might, he, too, had to keep building up his own strength. It was essentially an arms race.
Ideally, he wanted to reach the point where he could bombard Chaos Gods directly with artillery.
Just then, fresh tremors shook the ground as the Titan battle group caught up.
They encircled the Imperial Emperor, reforming into an offensive formation and helping clear away Chaos abominations that strayed too close.
Although this Fortress-pattern Titan's firepower was devastating, its lance batteries needed a recovery period after each shot.
Recycling the ship-grade lances planet-side required a stretch of time, nearly ten times longer than their firing intervals in space.
Fortunately, its other weapon systems could still be used during that window.
After that, Eden issued the order to continue the advance.
The Imperial Emperor ended its firepower-focused defensive posture, rose back to its full height, and then led the Titan battle group charging toward the command nexus where the Fallen Phoenix lurked.
Like a brutal bulldozer, it rolled forward along the charred black path, crushing everything in its way.
…
Dark pink mists filled the great hall; torture implements dripped with fresh blood; twisted tentacles writhed and flexed.
This was clearly a domain of ecstasy.
"Savior!"
All of a sudden, a shrill scream rang out.
The Fallen Phoenix, Fulgrim, smashed his goblet and sprang up from his throne, his tone dripping with venom and rage.
Before him hovered a sorcerous projection, displaying the scene of the Savior's Fortress-pattern war engine leading a Titan battle group in their advance.
Compared to the battlefield setbacks, what enraged him even more was how the Savior was hogging the limelight. Such violent, headlong thrusts had already drawn the attention of the gods.
Fulgrim had only just fought hard to obtain this chance to command the host and wanted to use it to win more attention from the higher powers.
To feed his own vanity.
But now, no one was paying him any mind. The Savior's aggressive advance had stolen all eyes.
"In less than an hour, the Imperium's Titan group will reach this sector. We have to decide.
Do we draw out their torment, or temporarily withdraw to a safer area?"
Captain of the Emperor's Children, Lucius the Eternal, hissed through his serpent tongue. As he spoke, he let out low groans of pain.
The Slaaneshi champion was bound with torture devices that constantly flayed his flesh and drove barbed steel thorns into his body.
He was nearly unkillable, able to draw power from his own agony and torment.
Fulgrim glanced sideways at this grotesque creature in distaste. Even as his own gene-sire, he still found Lucius somewhat deranged.
Mainly because this fallen Primarch's perversions differed from Lucius' in kind.
In a sense, Fulgrim played much harder.
"Of course, we stop them."
Fulgrim's gaze locked onto the Savior's Fortress war engine, his eyes icy cold:
"Since that vain, affected hypocrite dared to break away from his main force to strike at us, then we shall indulge him properly…"
The Savior's Titan group might look impressive, but Titans alone could never win a war.
That fool had driven too deep into the Chaos lines. Without the support of the Imperial host, the Titans would soon become isolated and exposed.
No matter how powerful a Titan's guns may be, how many daemons can they really kill?!
After a moment of stunned shock, the forces of Chaos had already recovered and were organizing fresh offensives.
As soon as the daemons closed in around the Titan god-machines, many of their weapons could be nullified. Those long-range guns would be impossible to bring to bear.
All the enemy needed to do was swarm the Titan hulls and wantonly destroy their mechanical structure.
Enough ants can bite an elephant to death.
This was also why, whenever Titan god-machines marched, there had to be masses of Space Marines deployed around them.
For all their firepower, Titans were fragile. They needed large numbers of troops to protect them.
That way, you could keep too many enemies from entering inside the radius of the void-shield bubble and threatening the god-machine itself.
The Savior's strike looked ferocious and imposing, but in truth, his chances of victory were extremely slim and the risks immense.
Such an operation served no purpose beyond showing off.
Even so, as Fulgrim stared at the image in the sorcerous projection, a flicker of envy passed through his eyes.
Inside, he was howling with jealous hatred.
Because the Savior was just too good at posturing, and the Fallen Phoenix could not allow anyone to be more ostentatious than himself in this universe!
Hoo~
Fulgrim took a long breath to steady himself.
He brushed back his long black hair, his expression sharp and heroic.
His style as a Fallen Phoenix had changed quite a bit—no longer a pure fop, but a heroic fop.
Even his hair was now dyed black.
Thanks to the Savior's existence, black hair had become the sexy, high-status color of the galaxy and the Warp alike.
Many nobles were imitating it, all rushing to dye their hair black, as if failing to do so stripped them of their nobility.
That is the kind of influence authority and power have—enough to reshape people's ideas of beauty.
Even Fulgrim now found his old silver hair a little garish and had quietly switched to black.
His armor and attire also heavily imitated the Savior's style.
He saw nothing wrong with this. In fact, he felt that with the same aesthetic he could outdo the Savior.
All he needed to do was use this war to remove the Savior and become the one and only.
"That hypocrite thinks himself strong, and to show off he has thrown his Titan battle group into danger. How foolish can you get?!"
The Fallen Phoenix stared at the projection of the Savior and suddenly broke out into wild laughter.
He issued fresh orders:
"Go, Lucius. This is a good opportunity.
Destroy that Fortress engine. Destroy every Titan god-machine the Savior brought.
Tsk, just thinking about it makes me laugh.
We can hardly wait to see him clutching his chest in anguish, full of regret, looking like the perfect clown.
I really want to see how that hypocrite plans to cross billions of daemons to get to me once he has lost his ride.
Is he going to crawl his way over inch by inch?!"
Fulgrim's voice twisted, slipping back and forth between mocking and vicious.
He slumped back into his throne, clutching his stomach as he let out a coquettish, poisonous laugh.
Even after laughing for a while, the Fallen Phoenix still did not feel satisfied.
He had to mock that hypocrite face-to-face to feel truly appeased.
Buzz—
Fulgrim reached out and used sorcery to contact the Savior.
Moments later, the pink mist gathered into a spectral mirror.
The Savior's upper body appeared in it, with Lion, Guilliman, and the other Primarchs standing behind him.
They all looked in Fulgrim's direction. Guilliman's eyes in particular burned with fury.
"How touching of you to come so far just to look for me. Unfortunately, it's all meaningless."
Fulgrim lounged comfortably on his throne, looking down his nose at the Savior and the Primarchs behind him.
He was so pleased with himself that his voice was downright grating. "Hypocrite, you idi—"
"What are you saying?"
Suddenly, the Savior frowned and cut him off, tilting his head and cupping his ear in puzzlement.
As if he could not hear properly.
???
Fulgrim paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and pushed more warp-power into the spell-link, reinforcing it.
He raised his voice. "Hypocrite! You idi—"
"What's going on?"
The Savior once again interrupted the Fallen Phoenix, as if asking:
"Is there a problem with the warp-link? Why can we not hear that guy's voice?"
"Impossible…" Fulgrim frowned, now confused himself as he checked the sorcerous array. "The spell-link is perfectly fine. How could it fail to transmit sound?!"
"Because I'm lying to you, you utter fool."
The next instant, the Savior's mocking voice rang out, and he wore an expression like a man watching a clown show.
Even Lion and the other Primarchs behind him wore the look of people watching an idiot.
"You!"
Fulgrim stared at the Savior, suddenly flustered.
Buzz—
Before he could react, the warp-link was forcibly severed by the Savior, and the projection dissolved.
Huff, huff, huff.
Fulgrim's breathing turned labored and his chest heaved.
He tried to reconnect with the Savior through sorcery, but the attempt was rejected.
The Fallen Phoenix realized the Savior had blocked him!
Once he understood that, his vision went black for a moment, then flushed blood-red with rage.
Not even thick layers of makeup could hide the furious crimson suffusing his face.
Silence fell over the great hall.
Lucius and the other Slaaneshi warriors looked at this scene, not quite sure how to react.
Many other Slaaneshi entities lowered their heads to hide their smiles.
This was absolutely not the time to laugh out loud.
Their gene-sire's methods of torment went far beyond anything they could imagine—even Slaaneshi warriors often could not endure them.
Even Lucius himself had been known to faint.
"Hy… hypocrite!"
Fulgrim let out a shrill screech, his serpent's tail smashing apart the exquisite furnishings around him, even shattering the throne.
He glared viciously at the Emperor's Children and the rest of the Slaaneshi host:
"Get out. All of you, get out there and destroy that Titan battle group. Make sure the Savior is utterly defeated.
Where is the poison? Bring me more toxins, the kind potent enough to slay any Primarch!"
The Fallen Phoenix's fury had reached its peak, and he went berserk, smashing everything nearby to vent his wrath.
Outside the hall, the Emperor's Children elite assembled.
They had once been among the Emperor's most beloved and favored Legions.
This Third Legion of Europa's noble houses had been given the finest armor and the most sacred regalia.
Now all of it was twisted, sprouting hideous tentacles.
The Emperor's Children hefted power swords shaped like torture implements and mounted all manner of sonic weaponry.
Under Lucius' command, they marched furiously toward the Savior's position.
These Chaos warriors would join the endless daemon hordes to annihilate that isolated Fortress war engine and its Titan battle group.
If necessary, they would use sorcery to teleport aboard those war engines and sabotage their machinery from within.
…
Inside the Fortress-pattern Titan.
Buzz—
Eden used his psychic power to shatter the Fallen Phoenix's warp sorcery construct and then temporarily blocked the other party.
He shook his head and sighed softly. "I really don't get that guy. He just had to come here looking to be insulted…"
This was one of the Savior's little tricks in trash-talk duels—when facing scum like the Fallen Phoenix, you absolutely must not give them a chance to spit their abuse.
You certainly cannot let them enjoy themselves. Just one clean combo to take them out is enough.
Lion and the other Primarchs nodded, deeply convinced.
They had learned something new again. As expected, Brother Eden really knew what he was doing. That traitor Fulgrim was probably already losing his mind.
"We've driven deep into the Chaos lines. Are we really fine like this?"
Lion heard the howls echoing from all directions as wave after wave of daemonic hordes surged in.
The powers of Chaos had dispatched even more daemon armies.
Meanwhile, the Imperial Emperor and the Titan battle group had pushed far from the Imperial defensive lines and could scarcely expect any support.
He cautioned, "Maybe we should hurry and summon the armies, then continue the advance."
Lion remembered Eden saying that the Imperial Emperor mounted a large beacon device.
It could pierce the interference of the warp and broadcast a beacon signal.
That would mark their location and guide in the deployment of reinforcements.
Right now, the entire planet was wrapped and corrupted by a Chaos vortex, Chaos lines threaded through twisting warp-space everywhere.
Even the Imperial Emperor needed the guidance of the Savior and the Primarchs to plot its forward course.
Without beacon guidance, the fleet might well drop their troops into some unknown region by accident.
Now was clearly the time to call in the armies, or the Imperial Emperor and the Titan battle group would struggle to withstand this many daemons.
Worse yet, more and more daemons had already broken through the Titan battle group's firepower cordon and begun threatening the war engines directly.
Just a few melta bombs could cripple a Titan's legs.
"We're about at the right spot. It is indeed a good place to summon the armies."
Eden nodded and raised his hand slightly to give the order. "Tarko, fire the beacon. Have the fleet drop the troops.
We need massed power-armoured infantry, automated long-range battle automata, and servo-drones."
Buzz—
As the Savior lifted his hand, a lance of white light shot up into the sky.
The Primarchs broke into smiles at the sight—but the smiles froze a second later.
Because the beam lasted only a few seconds before flickering and going out.
???
"What's going on?" Eden frowned and asked.
"The beacon device is being corroded by unknown warp-energies. The communication priests are urgently recalibrating the data.
They claim that under the Machine-Goddess' protection the beacon will remain usable; they just need a bit of time."
Tarko reported calmly as ever.
Eeden said nothing, instead turning to Lion and the other Primarchs:
"Looks like this is the Changer of Ways' handiwork. While the beacon is under repair, we'll have to brace for a boarding action."
He had already spotted those purple-and-pink Emperor's Children Chaos Marines.
"We have to prepare for the worst—for example, breaking out with no reinforcements at all."
Eden thought for a moment and added, "And if other fallen traitors show up right now…
We may have to face even greater danger…"
If there was really no way around it, he would just have to pay a higher price to invoke the Armor of Redemption and then, alongside his Primarch brothers, hack a bloody path through the daemon tide.
That was one of the backup plans.
(End of Chapter)
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