Three torrents of bioplasma roared out from the bio-cannons on the back of the Ion Cannon Broodlord.
This ferocious Tyranid Behemoth was a siege unit specially adapted by the hive mind; its scorching hot plasma blasts were enough to burn through all armor and shatter all lines.
The hive mind saw Alexander's figure through the eyes of the Tyranid.
Alexander suddenly appeared in the middle of the street like a ghost.
He used some kind of psychic power to shatter the surrounding Tyranid and pulled out a scarlet cape from who knows where.
Alexander held the cape, standing before the Tyranid like a matador.
The crackling sound of lightning echoed through the street, and plasma surged like a tide.
Both the hive mind and the Astra Militarum soldiers behind the defense line watched this scene.
Alexander lightly waved the scarlet cape in his hand.
The cape collided with the torrent of plasma.
The cape was so thin, as if it were merely a prop for a child's game.
But the roaring plasma, which seemed capable of burning the entire street to ashes, encountered layers of heavy Void Shields.
Waves of energy rippled out, yet not a single spark crossed the cape in Alexander's hand.
The plasma accumulated in front of Alexander, almost forming a dazzling wall of light.
Alexander stood unyielding, like a dam before a flood.
Even General Drost, who was commanding the battle from the high ground of the street fort, had a look of confusion in his eyes.
How exactly did Alexander manage that?
Some psychic power? Some ancient technological artifact? Or an alien artifact?
"You'll get used to it, Hakimi," Reyna said, her voice laced with strange syllables. "Who knows where Alexander finds all these strange technological artifacts."
"Is he… is he really an Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus with a hidden identity?" General Drost couldn't help but mumble softly.
Just then, Alexander, standing in the middle of the street, suddenly swung the reflective cape in his hand.
A hurricane erupted from the cape, causing ripples in the plasma torrent.
Boom!!!
As Alexander swung the cape in his hand, the plasma torrent was forcefully bounced back towards the Tyranid.
Countless low-level Tyranid quickly gathered, forming layers of flesh walls.
But the anti-line plasma torrent, meticulously designed by the hive mind, could not be withstood even by themselves.
The sizzling sound of burning flesh echoed continuously, and the flesh walls made of low-level Tyranid were burned into layers of char in the blink of an eye.
The larger and slower Carnifex and Ion Cannon Broodlord had no time to dodge.
Their massive bodies directly collided with the plasma torrents they had fired.
Under the splashing electrical light, even their thick chitinous carapaces were burned through in an instant.
As the electrical currents dissipated, three Carnifex and three Ion Cannon Broodlord lay at the end of the street, among their charred corpses.
Beneath their carbonized chitinous carapaces, their corrosive flesh was burned black and scorched.
Without the long-range armor-piercing fire suppression from the Carnifex, the Astra Militarum's leman russ tanks immediately regrouped and rolled forward.
Fire and shells concentrated on the two remaining Executioner, and fell upon the remaining Tyranid, sending flesh flying.
Alexander flashed a few times, stuffed the corpses of those Tyranid Behemoth into his four-dimensional pocket, and in the blink of an eye, he was back on the street fort.
"How are things in the other sectors?" Alexander asked, approaching General Drost.
Since this sector was attacked by Tyranid Behemoth, the other sectors must have suffered similar treatment.
This was a characteristic of the Leviathan hive Fleet: rapidly changing tactics according to the needs of the battle, leaving the opponent no time to react.
After yesterday's Tyranid swarm tactics were thwarted, the Leviathan hive Fleet chose the tactic of Behemoth assault today.
This almost seized the Astra Militarum's weakness.
The biggest problem for the Astra Militarum coming to support Ashford was insufficient manpower, forcing them to rely on narrow terrain to form defensive lines.
If the lines were broken by Tyranid Behemoth, the Cadian Shock Troopers would be almost unable to directly confront the endless Tyranid swarm.
"Very bad," General Drost's expression was not good. "The lines in many sectors have been broken by Tyranid Behemoth."
"We should retreat."
Alexander nodded slightly; this was within their expectations.
The Lower Nest had held on to its limit.
Originally, in General Drost's plan, the Lower Nest should have fallen on the first day.
To have held on until now was a great fortune.
Now, further shortening the front line and concentrating the already scarce Cadian Shock Troopers to defend the Upper hive was a more appropriate tactic.
Taking advantage of the Tyranid Behemoth being killed and the Tyranid temporarily suppressed, the Cadian Shock Troopers quickly carried out an orderly retreat.
Sanguinius' face was benevolent and gentle, as if he worried about all the suffering of humanity in the mortal world.
Alexander stood at the crossroads, looking up at the stone statue that had stood there for tens of thousands of years.
Many candles were placed beneath the statue; some had already extinguished, while those still burning emitted a faint, hazy orange light, gathering together as if igniting a sea of stars at Sanguinius' feet.
These lit candles were the fervent prayers of Ashford's residents, praying for Sanguinius to protect their safety.
A portion of them were offered by Astra Militarum soldiers, praying for Sanguinius to bless their weapons, enabling them to resist more enemies of humanity.
Above the candlelight, the stone statue of Sanguinius held a spear, pointing towards the nearby Spear Tavern, which once belonged to One-Eye.
Now the tavern was empty, the remaining liquor having been distributed by One-Eye to the surrounding Astra Militarum soldiers.
This crossroads would be one of the Cadian Shock Troopers' last strongholds in the Lower Nest.
They would hold this position, protecting the passage to the Upper hive.
Two huge stone statues, standing beside Sanguinius, whose identities were unknown, had been blown down, and rubble buried two of the roads, forming a defensive line against the Tyranid swarm.
General Drost even considered whether to blow up Sanguinius' statue as well, to use it as one of the defensive lines to block the enemy at the last moment.
However, considering that this might dampen morale, he could only temporarily give up on the idea.
"It wouldn't really matter if it were blown up."
Sanguinius in the corner of Alexander's eye said.
"I agree."
"You're not Sanguinius," Alexander said, glancing at him.
No matter what his relationship with Sanguinius was, the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine had already confirmed that he was definitely not Sanguinius himself.
"I think I am," Sanguinius retorted.
"What a magnificent statue," General Drost said, walking over to Alexander. "
He looked up at the towering statue of Sanguinius, his face showing a mix of fatigue and piety.
Alexander nodded slightly; after such a long time, he had grown somewhat accustomed to the statue's presence and had not really observed it carefully.
Only today, upon closer inspection, did he realize that this statue was indeed exquisitely beautiful.
Despite being a massive rock, it carved Sanguinius' wings with the lightness of feathers, and the silk on his body with a flowing texture.
And on that face, benevolence and majesty coexisted, coupled with the sharp, pointed spear, making Sanguinius seem like a noble saint fighting with compassion.
"Truly worthy of being the most popular Primarch in the Imperium," General Drost exclaimed.
Excluding the Ultramarines' domain, Sanguinius was the most revered Primarch on most planets.
This was even more so on Ashford, which was near Baal; this magnificent and exquisite statue clearly cost a fortune.
As for why it wasn't so in the Ultramarines' domain—that brings us to a famous landmark on Macragge.
"Ha, ten thousand years ago, Guilliman was one of the least popular among us brothers, at most only slightly more popular than Konrad and Angron."
Sanguinius said with a hint of emotion.
"I didn't expect that after ten thousand years, his popularity would almost catch up to mine."
"He has endless blue sons and grandsons," Alexander said.
This was inevitable; the gene-seed of the Ultramarines was stable and reliable, and with so many successor chapters, the planets influenced by them easily came to revere Guilliman.
As for the Blood Angels, their numbers were indeed second only to the Ultramarines, but their gene-seed was simply too unstable.
Some chapters, deeply afflicted by it, found it difficult to inspire reverence in people.
"Some of your progeny are excellent, but many…tsk…"
Alexander shrugged.
"Extreme slavery enthusiasts, periodically massacring their homeworld's civilians, being deceived by a Tzeentch Great Unclean One into Bloodthirst addiction, believing their father is Guilliman, regarding the Black Rage and Bloodthirst as gifts from the Gene-Father…"
Alexander rattled off the extreme behaviors of certain Blood Angels chapters as if listing family treasures.
"…" Every time Alexander spoke, Sanguinius couldn't help but tremble.
The Black Rage and Bloodthirst were always curses that plagued the Sons of Sanguinius.
Ten thousand years after Sanguinius' death, many chapters had, more or less, embraced these two curses.
For example, many Blood Angels had resumed the tradition of blood drinking.
Of course, many successor chapters, even deeply affected by the curse in their genes, still maintained the nobility of the former Ninth Legion.
"Falling to the Black Rage and Bloodthirst is not entirely their fault," Sanguinius said, his voice somewhat hoarse.
He seemed to feel that his absence had led to these degenerations, and thus took it as his responsibility.
Alexander looked at Sanguinius and sighed softly.
He felt that it wasn't anyone's responsibility; if one truly had to assign blame… the flaws in the Ninth Legion's gene-seed might even have been deliberate by someone.
"Don't you dislike Guilliman because he has a mother?" Alexander changed the subject.
Many Primarchs had adoptive fathers, but not many had adoptive mothers.
"That's a rumor. Leman Russ doesn't like Guilliman much either, but Leman Russ also has his wolf mother," Sanguinius retorted.
Leman Russ was raised on Fenris by a "she-wolf."
"But there are no wolves on Fenris," Alexander shook his head.
Considering there are no wolves on Fenris, Leman Russ might be one of the few Primarchs who came closest to having both parents.
"You seem to know a few too many little secrets," Sanguinius couldn't help but say.
"Alexander, General Drost."
Reyna's voice suddenly rang out; she quickly walked towards Alexander and General Drost.
"You'll never guess what happened, Demacia!"
Her voice was mixed with strange, meaningless syllables.
"The nobles, the nobles of the Top hive, actually brought their private armies to support us."
Hearing this, Alexander's expression froze slightly.
Nobles? All the nobles of Ashford, led by governor Augustus Flax, had long since entered a state of 'lying flat'.
These guys were clearly hiding in their shelters, trying to escape the disaster.
Why had they suddenly come out and started actively bringing their private armies to support the Astra Militarum?
Alexander's eyes moved slightly.