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[Disclaimer: From this chapter to Chapter 51, the narrative will lean towards an ensemble cast, with more emphasis on side characters and secondary descriptions. This is mainly to fill in plot holes and can be skipped.]
Not enough!
Still not enough!
Far from enough!
Never enough!
Damn it...
It needs an opponent!
[Overlord Carman] was panting heavily, its ferocious gaze sweeping over the soldiers and slaves of the legion, stretching from one end of the hazy horizon to the other, where sand and stone rolled. [Overlord Carman] commanded a large army; at least by the standards of the Ran-Dan Empire, this was true.
Within Carman's line of sight stood over twenty Ran-Dan elite warriors of its own [Overlord Warrior] rank. They were the true military aristocratic class of this savage race, the absolute core of all Ran-Dan martial arts and military organization.
The [Overlords] were the strongest and most arrogant warriors. Most of them had never suffered defeat on the battlefield, and the strange blades and swords in their hands had thirstily drunk the fresh blood of countless powerful opponents. Carman, moreover, was the monarch among the [Overlords]; its power and battle record were enough to make these arrogant and rude warriors instinctively learn humility.
Beyond the [Overlords], layers upon layers of Ran-Dan soldiers surrounded them. These ordinary warriors, of course, could not compare to the elites, but they also possessed tall bodies, developed senses, and savage strength, along with the strict discipline brought by fear and submission.
As a race with ambitions in the stars but insufficient population, the Ran-Dan possessed a grotesque social structure: apart from core technology and military industries, the Ran-Dan race relegated large numbers of low-level production lines to slaves and so-called allies, thereby freeing up their own manpower, making every Ran-Dan civilian a formidable reservist.
Coupled with an extremely savage and martial social ethos, the Ran-Dan successfully transformed their society into a terrifying military camp born solely for conquest and enslavement. What's more, Ran-Dan warships rarely carried weapons for ground bombardment, because for them, capturing slaves and achieving victory in war were equally important.
And having witnessed the colossal might of the Human Empire, which was enough to make any opponent despair, the Ran-Dan Empire strayed further and further down this twisted path. To kill the Emperor's creation in one fell swoop, they unhesitatingly staked the entire future of their race: almost every Ran-Dan civilian capable of wielding a weapon became a soldier or reservist.
They were crammed into fleets of all sizes, fighting madly with savage strength and fearless courage, adding imperceptible chips to the Ran-Dan's victory. Carman could even see some young faces among the Ran-Dan soldiers. Although these tender soldiers were equally terrifying warmongers, it was well aware that previously, the Ran-Dan army would absolutely not accept such fresh blood.
This is a shortsighted folly. [Overlord Carman] lamented inwardly. Its gaze finally skipped over these young kin and fell upon the endless army of slaves. The slave legion belonging to Carman naturally didn't have those incompetent humans and other fragile races. As far as the eye could see, it was filled with monsters exuding brute force and savagery.
The Ran-Dan even had to install specialized mind-control collars on their necks to prevent unforeseen circumstances. This was Carman's legion: an absolute core, twenty-four elite [Overlords], over twenty thousand ordinary Ran-Dan soldiers serving as backbone and claws, and hundreds of thousands of controlled and enslaved [expendable troops]. If it were in the past, commanding such a legion, Carman would be sufficient to launch a full-scale assault on any race's nation. But now, it was different; it knew well what it was facing.
Those two to three-meter-tall [humans], those powerful warriors who called themselves Astartes, Carman had witnessed firsthand how they slaughtered the Ran-Dan's slave armies. Even ordinary Ran-Dan soldiers were no different from fragile children under their gun barrels. Only the [Overlords] could defeat these powerful opponents by relying on savage strength,
rich experience, and superior great equipment. Compared to these formidable warriors, the figures around them, known as [Mortal Auxiliaries], were insignificant. Even an ordinary Ran-Dan soldier could easily contend with three to five so-called Mortal Auxiliaries. A skilled Ran-Dan squad could even team up to slaughter ten times their number of mortal opponents.
And beneath the so-called Mortal Auxiliaries, the Human Empire seemed to possess even more fragile and smaller units. Carman's army had just crushed several defensive lines, killing tens of thousands of such [warriors], but it had no interest in these guys. Its only concern was those warriors worthy of a grand duel. Yes... an opponent!
As soon as it thought of this, [Overlord Carman]'s slightly cooled fearless heart began to pound madly once again. It continued its heavy breathing, a longing for dueling and life-and-death burning in its chest, reflecting the terrifying scars that covered its entire body. But it knew it had to endure. It had to continue the Ran-Dan tradition: first,
send endless waves of slaves to exhaust the enemy, then let the elite warriors decide the outcome. It knew this was the safest method, but another desire in its mind was tormenting it: just now, it had received information through the legions' communications that a small vanguard contingent had instantly lost contact and whereabouts, with thousands of Ran-Dan warriors and hundreds of thousands of slaves disappearing without a sound.
There was a strong one, a powerful opponent. He might be a great warrior, or a psyker like its own foster father, or even a powerful weapon being manipulated. But it didn't care. It only wanted to defeat that monster capable of annihilating legions. It only wanted to enjoy a satisfying slaughter after this boring and long voyage. This emotion seemed particularly strong... as if something was whispering in its ear.
Battle, it needs a real battle.
No... this feeling...
No, don't think about it. Don't think about battle yet. There are still missions to complete: advance, find that hidden base, capture it. That is the top priority now.
But... battle...
...
Damn it.
Carman pressed his forehead. Then, he heard the voice of his aide.
"My Lord..."
"Speak!"
"My Lord, the vanguard reports that there is a human aircraft ahead of our march route."
"Shoot it down. Do I still need to give orders for this?"
[Overlord Carman] could hear its voice becoming more violent and displeased than usual. Perhaps it really needed to speed up its pace. Leading the army, accelerating forward. It remembered that ahead was the only great river on this world. Crossing it would lead to its destination, then annihilating the guys guarding there, there should be Astartes...
Hopefully, they won't be disappointing opponents.
[Overlord Carman] looked up. At the very front of the marching column, it saw a storm gathering.
"A storm is gathering, Hektor."
"We might need to change our route, but if we do, we probably won't reach the bridge before the designated time. Then we'll likely have to bicker with those Dark Angels again."
Librarian Salyer walked at the very front of the squad. Beside him was the silent Ajax, and behind him was the somewhat dispirited Hektor. At the very end of the squad, the veteran warrior Chiron, who had landed in this world through emergency transport, guarded the rear of the team.
"...Hektor?" The report received no response. Salyer turned his head, and, as expected, saw a mixture of hesitation and thought on Hektor's face.
"Hektor!" The Librarian slightly raised his voice, a soft shout to awaken the pensive squad leader.
"What's wrong with you? Why have you been so preoccupied since a while ago?"
"Just worried about the war."
Hektor answered vaguely. Even Ajax frowned at this answer, let alone Salyer, who clearly displayed his disbelief. However, due to trust and long-standing camaraderie in battle, Salyer ultimately said nothing. The squad simply continued to trek in silence towards the distant bridge.
The Sabis River, which almost traversed the entire Sabis IV, was a huge torrent. Even at its narrowest point, it was several hundred meters wide. Moreover, under the rapid current, sharp reefs were densely distributed, completely eliminating any possibility of wading across.
Therefore, the few existing cross-river bridges were exceptionally precious and even strategically significant. The Second Legion's squad was dispatched to reinforce one of them. After waiting for a Stormbird to pick them up for a long time, Hektor and the others had no choice but to proceed on foot.
This journey was not long, and there was no exchange of fire with enemies. Apart from the veteran warrior Chiron occasionally narrowing his eyes and staring at some inconspicuous mounds, nothing else happened. But this did not prevent Hektor from trekking with a heavy heart. Just before setting off, while waiting for the Stormbird that had "stood them up," Hektor finally calmed his emotions, intending to discuss the magical reality of the Primarchs with his comrades.
But the reality was...
"Primarch? What Primarch?"
Everyone, whether it was Ajax, or Salyer, the initiator of everything, or even the veteran warrior Chiron, all looked at him with pure confusion and bewilderment, as if they knew nothing. Hektor tried to argue, but after asking a few questions, he found that they truly knew nothing: memories regarding the discovery of the Primarch's whereabouts and breaking into the Dark Angels' encampment had mysteriously disappeared. They only remembered that the squad had been dispatched by a written order.
Looking at the sworn faces of his battle-brothers and his mentor, for a moment, Hektor himself fell into doubt: could it all truly be his unconscious delusion? If not for the clear reflection of that silver-haired, pale-eyed face in his mind, he might truly have been overwhelmed by this doubt.
But after the doubt, a new and terrifying thought took hold of his mind:
What exactly happened?
Why is he the only one who remembers?
Who? When? How did they do it? He didn't even dare to think further. Hektor looked up. He wanted to take a deep breath, then temporarily forget these terrifying deductions and memories through battle and mission.
Then, he saw a Stormbird.
A burning Stormbird.
It had clearly been hit by something. One of its wings was completely engulfed in thick smoke. Hektor watched it fall erratically, tracing a bizarre arc in the sky, then slowly disappearing ahead of their line of sight.
That was the direction of the bridge.
And their mission objective.
Several Dark Angels were still in this rather dim, secret room.
"Someone just spied on us. It's a veteran warrior from the Second Legion."
"Ignore him. Why hasn't Group B's target arrived here yet?"
"Their Stormbird was attacked by the Ran-Dan. They're preparing to rendezvous with Group A, who are guarding the bridge, nearby."
"Group A reports that a substantial Ran-Dan army is advancing towards the bridge. Their target is very likely here."
"Do we need reinforcements?"
"The scale of the Ran-Dan force?"
"Approximately twenty-something [Overlords], around twenty thousand regular Ran-Dan soldiers, and hundreds of thousands of slave troops."
"I remember... if Groups A and B merge, there will be a total of seven people, plus the mortal guards at the bridge, approximately twenty thousand..."
The Dark Angel seated in the center nodded.
"That's enough."
"Our primary mission is to hold this position. The bridge situation will be handled by Group A and Group B."
"We must trust..."
"The power of the Terrorwing."
ăI originally intended to write from multiple perspectives for a while, but today I looked through what I've written recently...
ăăSo I combined several perspectives into a single bridge battle for a satisfying fight, and eliminated a few characters along the way.
ăăIt seems I really can't write battle scenes. It's frustrating...
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