manynovel Page 176
Page 176
Its surface insignia have been reconstructed; in addition to the Imperial Eagle in the center and the Black Sanctuary symbol below, the symbols of the chapters composed of the Sons of Dorne, such as the Imperial Fist, the Soul Drinker, and the Executioner, have also appeared.
Its appearance has also begun to change. It is no longer plain, but has a touch of understated yet luxurious dark gold, and many more patterns have been added to it.
The white light dissipated, and Dorn raised his hand, his five fingers moving according to his thoughts.
"not bad."
He said.
"Thanks for the compliment."
Lynch responded weakly.
－－－－－－－－－－－
The Bonebreaker Salaka suddenly opened his eyes, and his massive body began pacing back and forth in the cabin. The orc boys around him looked at him in bewilderment, not understanding why their leader, who had been soundly asleep just a moment ago, had suddenly opened his eyes and revealed an unconcealable anxiety.
The Bonebreaker ignored the gazes of its underlings and paced back and forth in the cabin. Only it knew the reason behind it. It walked from one end of the cabin to the other and back again, and in this process, as the most powerful, domineering, strongest, and most awesome orc in the entire galaxy, it couldn't help but reminisce about its past.
A long time ago, actually not that long, probably only a few hundred years ago, the Bonebreaker was just a small orc in the Goff tribe—yes, just an ordinary small orc. This was the starting point for the Bonebreaker, or rather, the starting point for all orcs in the entire galaxy.
During an attack launched by the shrimp, the Bonebreaker had its head shattered by a bullet fired by a large shrimp. Fortunately, it encountered the Mad Doctor Grootsnik, who replaced part of the Bonebreaker's skull with a piece of adamantite. This not only brought it back to life but also awakened abilities that surpassed those of other orcs.
That is, during and after the surgery, the bone-crusher firmly believed that he had become the chosen one of the two brothers, and that he could hear their voices and even see their figures.
This ability became the foundation for the Bonebreaker to become a legendary orc.
The Bonebreaker's status among the orcs continued to rise. Relying on its status as the chosen one of the second brother of the orcs, it became the leading orc, leading hundreds of millions of orc boys to launch the WAAAGH that swept across the entire galaxy.
Decades ago, the Bonecrusher encountered his nemesis, a shrimp known as Arek, or Old One-Eyed.
That was a powerful human being. Even though his physical body was weak, his soul was absolutely the most powerful soul the Bone Shatterer had ever seen, far surpassing even those small fry.
Decades ago, relying on such a tenacious spirit, Arek successfully repelled the Bonecrusher. This defeat was etched in the Bonecrusher's mind, so this time, it brought an incredibly powerful team, intending to avenge its previous defeat.
But for some reason, on its way forward, it suddenly felt an inspiration from Brother Mao.
This was an unprecedented revelation. In it, the Bonebreaker saw countless orcish youths' corpses piled up before a towering city wall. Standing on the battlefield, he looked at an incredibly tall figure on the wall, a veritable killing machine, and felt a powerful tactile sensation.
A touch unique to death.
In an instant, the Bonebreaker understood the meaning of the revelation that Brother Mao had given him.
That means the situation with Arek has changed drastically, and if he continues to go to that world called Amighiddon, then—he will most likely die there.
The ideal of reviving the orcs will fall into disuse, and his own wish to unleash a WAAAGH that will sweep across the entire galaxy will also disappear. Even he himself will have to return to the embrace of his second brother.
However, since nothing has happened yet, there is still a chance for things to turn around.
If the Bonebreaker so desires, it can immediately issue orders to turn the entire orc fleet around, whether to leave or to attack elsewhere, thus avoiding its imminent fate of death.
This is probably what the second brother of the Gou Mao clan hoped to see. They also didn't want to see the orc boy they had chosen die like this, before his potential and abilities were fully developed and displayed.
but........
The Bonebreaker stopped, raised its head, and looked out at the boundless dark starry sky through the observation window above. A terrifying smile slowly crept onto its狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious/hideous) face.
"If I'm going to die, it means there's an even more domineering, more powerful, stronger, and more awesome guy waiting for me."
It took a deep breath, and then began to laugh wildly.
"I'm so incredibly excited!!!"
The beastmen were bewildered, but caught up in the excitement, they too began to cheer.
Within an invisible space, two streams of green energy appeared and entered the body of the Bone Crusher.
War is about to begin.
Chapter 207 Dorne and His Offspring (Part 1)
In the higher end of the year, it is called "pure intention".
A strike cruiser, having completed its parts production and assembly in the small foundry world of Shevilal—a process that took at least a decade—was then commissioned by the Shadowwolf Chapter of the Order of Astartes. Before the Third War of Amegiddund, it was invaded by aliens and then recaptured.
As massive, irregularly shaped plumes of burning rubble pierced the thick, dusky clouds above the fortress, the alarms sounded once more in the hive. A fighter squadron of Valkyries and Thunderbolts—led by Balasas—announced they were unable to join the battle.
The massive wreckage had burned completely, rendering the fighter jet's laser cannons and long-barreled automatic cannons ineffective against it.
The massive heap of debris scattered the fighter squadron.
Thousands of soldiers stood atop the city walls of the hive, watching the wreckage burn overhead like shooting stars, the air trembling with its movement, a violent tremor from the roar of overworked, dying engines.
Eighteen seconds later, the Pure Intention ended its career fighting for the Empire and humanity, leaving a new scar on the ravaged land of Amegiddon.
The strike cruiser did not explode the moment it hit the ground; instead, it dragged forward a long distance, carving out a new, massive canyon.
Then it exploded violently, even causing the walls of Halsridge, a city thousands of kilometers away, to tremble.
Flames surged and billowed; from space, one could see a massive mushroom cloud thousands of meters high. Within the wreckage, the boosters were still squeezing out the last drops of fuel, spewing out plumes of gaseous plasma and flames.
They seem to still be trying to return to their rightful place among the stars, but they don't know that they are already half-buried in the yellow sand, and this will be their grave.
Perhaps many years later, some lucky scavengers will bring it back to the light of day, or even give it a new life, but for now, it is dead.
But it will not be the third victim of this war.
"This ship is registered as Pure Intent." Colonel Salen—the leader of the Steel Legion stationed in Halesridge—read the message from the data panel with his head bowed.
"An Astartes battleship, a strike cruiser, belongs to..."
"Shadow Wolf".
A knight interrupted him, his voice harsh and stiff, devoid of any emotion. "To the very last moment, were the knights of the Black Templar with them?"
"Together?"
Colonel Salen looked at the knight with a hint of curiosity, searching for the answer to his question.
"They perished in the Battle of Varadun eleven years ago. Their last company was wiped out by the Terran swarm."
Grimaldus sighed, closed his eyes, and began to recall the past.
The Shadow Wolves, also sons of Dorne, were exceptional. On Valadon, they fought alongside the knights in a battle of pure, unadulterated ferocity. The enemies were endless, soulless, emotionless… utterly alien, utterly hateful, with no chance of survival.
The Black Templars attempted to force their way through, hoping to preserve the last embers of the Shadow Wolves. However, the ferocity and ruthlessness of their enemy far exceeded their expectations.
The Tyranids were never mindless beasts; they were incredibly cunning, transformed into the most ferocious hunters in the galaxy under the rule of the Hive's will. Using their numerical superiority, they swarmed in, separating the warriors of the two chapters, slaughtering their enemies with their clawed and hooked appendages. The Shadow Wolves showed no fear, for Valladin was their home, and weeks before their fortress monastery fell to the enemy, they had sent out a distress signal.
But the Templars were still too late.
Gramadus fought there to the very last moment, watching helplessly as the last few wolves, the Sons of Dorne, their blades broken and their slugs out of ammunition, remained proud. In their communications with the Black Templar, their words contained no fear, only hatred for their enemy and a resolute acceptance of death.
“I will die in Valadeng, my blood relatives, see you on the throne.”
Grimaldos would never forget that last wolf standing before his chapter's battle flag, refusing to fall even as he was overwhelmed by countless enemies, and refusing to let his chapter's battle flag fall.
As long as there is one wolf, the battle banner will not fall, just as ten thousand years ago, as long as there is one Son of Dorne, the walls of Terra will not fall.
Such a moment, such glory, such a way of dying—Grimaldus held it in the highest esteem. The Black Templar even recorded it to encourage every new recruit and warrior who had just joined the warband.
Grimaldos let out a breath. To be honest, he had been daydreaming, which was wrong in war, especially for an Astartes, and even more so for a high-ranking member of a powerful chapter.
But Grimados still thought about it, and the reason was...
Because in his view, he had already lost the chance for glory in this war.
He thought of yesterday, on the eve of the war, when Roger Dorn had spoken to him alone.
"Gremadus".
Roger Dorn was a very tall figure, his hands gripping the Stormfang, the blade planted deep in the ground, his black cloak billowing in the wind, making his figure even more imposing.
"Father."
Grimaldos didn't know why Dorn had summoned him, but he was still incredibly excited. He knelt on one knee, just like a knight in ancient mythology meeting his lord.
"stand up."
Roger Dorn said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Grimaldos stood up, looked up at Dorn's face, and awaited his command.
"Once the war begins, I will personally board the orc flagship."
Grimaldus nodded; he naturally knew about it, or rather, every Templar knew about it.
Everyone longed to be by Rog Dorn's side when he boarded, and it wasn't just the Black Templars; other Astartes Chapter warriors also yearned to fight alongside a Primarch. However, Dorn would naturally choose his offspring, the Black Templars, to bring destruction to the Imperium's enemies and glory to the Sons of Dorn over millennia.
Privately, some people have already started to tease the brothers who went on the expedition. Undoubtedly, when all the expedition fleets return, these thousand men will become the object of envy for everyone else.
Grimaldos disliked this kind of private teasing, but deep down, he also harbored a longing for it.
And now, Dorn brought this up with him...
“I’ve already communicated with the others. Amigidoton needs defensive forces, and Halsridge’s hive is a key point. Even if I’m not here, I must leave a force belonging to the Black Templar. I’ve also left people in other key hives. Almarich, Licard, and two hundred-man companies have been assigned to Ash Wasteland, and I will leave people here as well.”
Upon hearing Dorn's words, Grimadus felt a sense of unease.
However, he still shook his head, feeling indignant on behalf of his two unfortunate brothers. "That is not our duty, Father. Both Almarich and Licard have left countless honors on their armor. Each of them has led massive expeditions, and it is our long-cherished wish and honor to fight alongside you. To abandon that honor and remain stationed in this filthy hive is to humiliate them."
“But my mind is made up.” Roger Dorn remained resolute, his expression serious and unwavering. “A commander must remain.”
“No.” Grimaldus understood in an instant. His soul turned cold, his voice trembled, and even became pleading. “Father… please don’t do this.”
"All the work has been arranged and is ready."
"No." The priest felt the hairs on his body stand on end. "Don't do this!"
“This is not the time to talk about these things, Grimaldi. Although I don’t know you very well yet, as your father, I can sense that you will not refuse this job.”
"No!!!" Grimadus shouted, his voice even startling the mortals patrolling the city walls.
Dorn remained silent, while Gramadus knelt on one knee and spoke in a trembling voice.
“I will follow you, I will crush the enemy with you, and destroy the alien blasphemy ships with holy flames, letting them wander in the void or burn on the land of Amegiddon. Father, do not leave me here, do not deny my glory in following you.”
Dorn lowered his head, looking at his offspring.
He remained silent, and finally let out a long sigh.
“No one will deny your honor,” Dorn said, and Gramadus looked up in surprise. “But you must stay here. This is the result of my careful consideration, you know? When I told Almarich and Licard earlier, they had the same reaction as you.”
Grimaldus felt an overwhelming sense of loss, but the next moment, he felt a gentle force coming from him—it was Dorn, who reached out and helped his offspring up from the ground.
"Come walk with me, it's right on the city wall."