Train, think and consider.

All of this is just a fragment, a few insignificant moments in a long time.

And beyond these far-reaching reflections is the most common, timeless, and powerful part of this galaxy.

War.

The war never stops.

——————

Neither the brutal strangulation of the Sabis system nor the fragments of iron and blood shed in countless galaxies and worlds over several Terra Standard Months could not stop the rampant war, but fed the greedy and savage beast more and more, making it thirst for more blood.

Several Astarte legions and hundreds of millions of imperial auxiliaries at the behest of the Emperor roamed the most inhospitable corners of the galaxy, piling up the heads of the Randan warriors into hills, showing off their prowesss at the behalf.

And behind this monument of victory, there is the human blood that can irrigate countless worlds flowing wantonly in every part of the battlefield, millions of humble tombs that have been hastily erected, and countless human worlds that were once prosperous and stable have been transformed into living flesh and blood workshops under the iron hooves of the Randan Empire.

All were bleeding.

Humans are bleeding, and so is Ran Dan.

But none of this was enough to convince the leaders of all the legions to throw in the towel, and it was not enough to make the two empires eager to conquer the galaxy give up the possibility of continuing to fight and rule.

More and more sightings are piled up on the table of the genetic prototypes, and more and more blasphemous fleets emerge from the shadows of the edge of the galaxy,

News of the destruction of the expeditionary fleet, the Auxiliary Fortress, and even the entire Titan Legion began to flow uneasily through all the corridors, and the eastern and northern borders of the galaxy had become a devouring black hole, swallowing thousands of Imperial Vanguard in one gulp, never to be seen again.

From a certain moment on, no one knew how many warriors the Empire had lost in this war, perhaps 100 million, maybe more, and even the Emperor could not say a more exact number.

And there is only one response to this from Divine Terra.

There will always be only one.

By the time a battleship was completely destroyed in the shadow of the stars, the keels of five brand-new battleships had been prepared at the shipyard of Jupiter.

When the three expeditionary fleets disappeared in the shadow of the Randan Empire, the thirty new expeditionary fleets were already on the table of the War Council.

While 10,000 mothers wept over the news of their children's deaths, a million mothers were weeping and uneasy as they watched their children get onto troop carriers.

Guts.

Volume.

Resolution.

Sacrifice.

It's all about one result.

For the goal set by the emperor himself.

Wail for all the alien races.

For the manifestation of the destiny of the Universe.

For victory.

For eternal victory.

All the price.

It's all at no cost.

——————

In the six months since the Battle of Sabis, Randan's army has torn apart sixteen expeditionary fleets of the Human Empire, destroyed seven worlds or interstellar fortresses, and crushed at least three million auxiliaries and two Titan legions.

In September, Randan's last stronghold in the Maelstrom region was uprooted by the Dark Angels, and millions of Randan's pure-blooded warriors were slaughtered, and their fingers could no longer reach the Sun Realm from the east.

In the sixteenth month after the Battle of Sabis, one of the Razor Moons of the First Legion destroyed the Razor of Glory, the Queen of Glory of the First Legion, and then the attack of the Razor forced the Death Guard Legion to completely turn six inhabited systems and many more uninhabited systems into wasteland to slightly delay the advance of these alien armies.

By the twentieth month, the Dark Angel, the White Scar, the Raven Guard, and some of the Death Guards and some Space Wolves formed a coalition of forces, and in one fell swoop, they annihilated a group of Randan heavy troops entrenched in the Wollaston system in the salient of the battle line, and three Randan commanders were killed in this battle, and billions of alien souls wailed on the battlefield, like the end of the world.

The Dark Angel's genetic prototype, [Lion] Johnson killed two of Randan's commanders in this war, while his psionic advisor, the silver-haired lady who was fearfully called the [Soul Drinker] by Randan's aliens, intercepted and killed the last Randan commander who tried to support.

And when the Dark Angel left this world, the billions of wailing souls that once roamed the surface seemed to have completely disappeared, leaving only an empty dead desert.

In the face of such a fiasco, the Randan Empire was naturally not without words: just seven months later, Randan's virus weapons completely destroyed six fortress worlds, and at least one hundred and fifty Titans fell in the same battle, becoming the raw materials for the Alien Empire to build a new war engine, and the twenty galaxies and tens of billions of imperial people originally protected by these god engines did not wait for the day when reinforcements arrived, their bones were piled up into mountains and molded into huge statues that mocked humanity.

Then, the letter of accountability from St. Terra arrived at the flagship of the First Legion.

Along with them, there were eleven Titan Legions as reinforcements, all fully manned.

At the same time, the reconnaissance force on the front line also sent back the latest news: although the Randan Legion and the fleet responsible for launching the first wave of the offensive in this war have been wiped out, the Alien Empire has not flinched, and in the more remote and dark corners, there are at least tens of billions of Randan troops and more battle moons.

In this way, in the fifth year of the official outbreak of the Second Randan War, after countless battles that were enough to completely destroy other alien civilizations broke out one after another, the invading army of Randan will finally reach a peak in strength, and tens of billions of Randan armies are pouring out of the shadows of the galaxy north like a migratory ant tide, and there is not even a trace of exhaustion in sight.

And also in this year, the Eleventh Legion has completely expelled Randan's Northern Legion from the solar system, and the most [pure] Genetic Prototype is leading the main force of his legion, tracking along the retreat route of Randan's defeated army, it is said that its forward troops have reached the vicinity of the Eye of Fear, but the information sent back has become more and more chaotic and scarce.

At the same time, whether it is the Shadow Moon Wolf Legion, the Ultra Warrior Legion, or every Astarte Legion that has not fully committed to this war, has received orders to be called up and dispatched, from Holy Terra to Otrama, the Empire's conscription orders have once again descended on the heads of countless Hive Worlds and Forge Worlds.

With the exception of a very lucky few, no one was spared from this war.

That's it.

The most powerful, crazy, and paranoid gambler in the two galaxies once again pushed what seemed to be all the chips in his hands, and then watched the currency of life pass endlessly in the relentless attrition of the blood of his own race's fate.

Until one side falls.

Or the end of all things.

——————

This is war.

Eternal truth.

No one can escape.

But not everyone is afraid.

No one is immune.

But not everyone resents.

No one can win.

But not all of them have nothing to gain.

——————

"Ms. Morgan."

The two veterans of the First Legion who had come out of Terra bowed their heads to the mortals in front of them, and they stood straight, slightly staggering their bodies, revealing the guarded porch behind them.

Morgan nodded, but didn't say anything, she was used to it.

Entering the cloister, the Dark Angel would occasionally be seen walking in a hurry, and when the Astarte warriors with their eyes above the top saw the flowing silver hair, they would stop and bow their heads until Morgan had walked past them.

In this way, Morgan kept her own leisurely pace, slowly wandering through the corridors that the rest of the mortals were not even qualified to know, and she finally came to the end of the corridor, where several doors were scattered on one wall, and through the unilateral transparent glass wall on the other, the entire deck of the Indomitable Truth could be seen.

Morgan's room was at one end of the hallway, and at the other end was an oversized door, and behind that was Johnson's private lounge.

In fact, when Morgan first became the unknown [psionic advisor] next to the genetic prototype of the First Legion, she didn't live here, and the dark angels on the battleship were more inclined to see her as an inconsequential little ghost.

But when the beacon fire in the galaxy continued to ignite, when Johnson led her and the First Legion to fight in countless worlds, when she personally burned millions of Randan warriors, when she was in Wollaston, in front of thousands of Dark Angel veterans, she turned the almost invincible Ran Dan commander into a wisp of ashes, and before she knew it, her room had moved here, and all the Dark Angels would show a gesture similar to [respect] as much as possible when they saw her.

They still kept some of the inner mechanisms secretive in front of her, but that didn't stop the knights from having the right attitude towards a truly powerful man.

Zaharel was even a little afraid of her, oh, and the new character, named Coswayne, who also liked to haunt his side now, and he seemed to make sure that Morgan was always in his or his genetic father's sights.

After all, after seeing Morgan's power, Johnson has become accustomed to carrying his psionic advisor to the most dangerous fronts, and the warriors around the genoplasm have accepted a new temporary comrade-in-arms, and the friendship between comrades-in-arms is always simple and strong.

Morgan pushed open the door, made a simple stretch in the spacious room, then casually leaned back on his large bed, stretched out his hand, and habitually began to play with the growing vines, the light sweet aroma of wine slowly echoing in the room.

After a while, she closed her eyes, raised the shield of the warning with ease, and then descended into her own realm of thought.

——————

Rift.

The rift is still there.

The giant blue eyes, the purple palace, and the golden greatsword are also there, and the sources of these sufferings are constantly consuming and growing against each other, maintaining a dynamic balance.

Morgan didn't look at them, all her attention was focused on the rift in front of her.

It's snowing in the rift, and it's raining non-stop, and the snow over the rift has never stopped since Morgan officially embarked on the road of war with Randan.

Her gaze focused on the pieces of [snowflakes], each snowflake symbolized a wailing alien soul, those larger ones were like hailstones, they were the strongest of the aliens, and those even bigger snowballs were high-end delicacies such as Ran Dan Zhanshuai.

But their accumulation is not all smooth sailing, those most ordinary alien souls are useless even if they are eaten, they are like real snowflakes, they look like sprinkled and piled up into a thick layer, but it will not be long before they will turn into water stains, and only those more huge souls can leave a few traces and accumulation.

If she really wants to rely on these alien souls to fill this deadly rift, then she will probably need to kill all the aliens in the galaxy, completely destroy and devour every civilized world that is not occupied by humans, and then pull out the blasphemous remnants hiding in the shadows one by one, and crush the bones and scatter ashes.

For a moment, she thought about the possibility of such an act.

Morgan hadn't tried to be opportunistic, and her eyes had been fixed on an even more bizarre alien: the greenskin.

This spore creature born for war is like a stubborn disease in the galaxy, which cannot be slain and killed, and even at the forefront of the First Legion's fight against Randan, there are green-skinned rogues infested, Morgan has surrounded these aliens with the dark angels, and tried to devour their strange souls.

It was fine at first, but as she ate too much, a strange roar kept echoing in her head, and it grew louder and louder.

She decisively spat out all the greenskinned souls, and there was not one left: the three in her head were enough to give her a headache.

Thinking of this, Morgan's forehead ached.

Then, she set her sights on the valley bottom, on the greatest piece of soul: in fact, even if she devoured billions or more of alien souls, it was far less than even one ten-thousandth of this soul.

This is Magnus's soul fragment, the most tonic that Morgan has eaten so far, and it has successfully covered the valley and relieved Morgan's headache a lot.

What's more, Morgan even noticed that Magnus's soul fragment was slowly rising, and although it wasn't fast, it was expanding little by little, filling more cracks in the valley.

She wasn't sure what it was, maybe it was one of the myriad bizarre manifestations of the original genotype, or maybe it was her connection to Magnus as a blood relative.

Whatever, that's a good thing.

It was this discovery that made Morgan more and more certain of the most dangerous and effective solutions.

Compared to the extremely inefficient alien souls, the souls of the genetic prototypes are clearly a more risky trade.

Of course, her final decision was to have both ideas, anyway, the golden greatsword and the will behind it only forbade her to devour the souls of pure humans, and as for the aliens and genetic prototypes, it didn't seem to belong to humans in the eyes of that will.

The war between the Empire and Randan continues, and despite the loss of more than 20,000 of its most elite soldiers, Johnson still shows no signs of backing down, and Morgan has no complaints, she craves the tens of billions of Randan army in the shadows more than anyone else.

In this way, as long as Ran Dan is still there, then the first point is not a problem.

As for the second point......

She had a hunch that she didn't have to wait too long.

(End of chapter)