"My children."

"In a short period of time, we have jointly recaptured this star sector called Gorgotan for humanity, and replanted the flame of reason and civilization to the lost world of countless human beings."

"We have redeemed our fellow citizens who once struggled in the old night, just like all the legions in the midst of the Great Expedition, just like our precious allies, the Iron Warriors."

"Your nobility has taken true glory for yourselves."

"I'm so proud of you."

"You are the blade in my hand, you are the hammer in my hand."

"The divine light from Terra will shelter each of us on the journey ahead, and the Resolute Resolve will serve as a bulwark for you."

"No alien or filthy presence can stop your blasts, nor can any heavy armor stop your heat until the blood of your filthy foes dries up, until their heads are trampled to pieces."

"Before our eyes, the whole maelstrom is waiting to be conquered."

"Now is the time to let this maelstrom of chaos calm down."

"My legions, my children, the sons of the mountains."

"The children who clad in the souls of Terra, who shed the blood of the red sand, and who have struggled to crawl out of the old night."

"Bring me victory."

"Unprecedented victory for humanity."

……

……

Above the Foundry World's Salem's orbit of giant factories surrounds a metal ring made of metal scrap and radioactive material, condensed by industrial waste discharged directly into space, and deliberately avoided by the starport's shipping routes. Deadly particles swirl endlessly, reflecting the dim glow of ancient stars.

Despite this, there are still a few recyclers from Salem who are still usable in orbit collecting the scrap, but their almost misshapen body is also symbolic of the poison they have experienced during their short military life.

Perturabo looked down at the world of foundry beneath his feet, the fire of industry that had not been dimmed since the furnace was opened thousands of years ago was becoming more and more dazzling, and hundreds of huge factories cast by countless empires and unpolluted STCs were also producing all kinds of military supplies with great efficiency, endless explosive bombs and promethium were transported directly to the transport hangars that were almost connected in the shipping lanes, and there were empty transport planes rushing to the factories at all times, and hundreds of tanks of all kinds were constantly driving out of the factories. Among them, there are all kinds of super-heavy steel beasts.

And those that can be clearly seen just from the orbit: all kinds of ancient storm birds flying straight out of the factory, thousands of giant transport planes constantly carrying out transportation missions at the same time, and the Titans that are being forged with great efficiency, and the ember wolves loyal to the Twelfth Legion are also calming down the violent newborn Titan Spirits.

In the midst of these roaring giant factories, even the slightest blockage and delay can lead to a death sentence pronounced by a technocracy. Outside of the dense factory clusters are more hectic and bloody raw material storage areas, where a large number of servants are scrapped due to the overly high workload, and prisoners or hapless creatures from other hive capitals can be seen transformed into servants to begin their miserable and short lives.

In the mechanical chapel at the center of each giant factory, hundreds of techno-sergeants can be seen coming and going at any time, bathed in sacred binary prayers, bringing the precise operation strategy and production needs of the genetic protoplasm to the technologist in charge of the factory's operations, and supervising whether the data on any node meets the expectations and requirements, and when each techno-sergeant completes the corresponding work with the computing power granted by his mother, they will take all the supplies out of the Gorgotan Star Zone.

Every link in this casting world is interlocking with each other, and every step is indispensable.

When these vast clusters of factories are assembled, the name of the creation it produces is war.

In this regard, Peturabo is quite emotional.

He saw a heart of steel pumping.

Yes, while the Casting World controlled by the Iron Lord was just as efficient, he had never seen the Casting World controlled by other Primordial Brothers so efficient.

Aside from Kiriman and Manus, it deserves some praise, but that's about it.

As the heart of the entire Gorgotan sector, this war machine known as Salem is running at high speed, providing a constant supply of nutrients for the upcoming grand expedition.

Looking at the majestic fleet that was slowly sailing towards Mandeville Point, the Iron Lord's arrogant eyes kept flashing traces of data streams.

The brief time with Elaine is over, and in the midst of the hectic expedition, the Iron Warriors will continue to overcome more difficulties, burn more tyrants' cities, and completely exterminate more alien existences in the midst of a hectic expedition.

However, during this short period of more than a year, even though Perturabo never really confided in Elaine, he did feel a sense of family and friendship that he had not experienced for a long time.

The Lone Iron Lord had never agreed that any being could stand by his side.

Although he never admitted it, this sister from the land of red sands did benefit a lot in the long and in-depth exchange of ideas.

It's not like a mere mortal sister, and it's not like those weird original brothers.

Perturabo saw the light in her and what her father expected of her.

The Iron Lord's resolute heart does not crave understanding, and the only being he allegiates to admire is the Lord of Humanity.

In the long and difficult Great Expedition, the Iron Warriors always rushed forward as a war hammer and spear point, sweeping away all the difficulties in the Great Expedition.

Casualties were inevitable, but for the Fourth Army, casualties were common.

Ever since he began his part in the war to launch an expedition against the stars decades ago, Peturabo has never had any desire to question the will of the Lord of Humanity.

It is only because Perturabo has received the burden given to him by the Lord of Mankind, the firm duty of the Iron Lord.

He knew that everything he did had a meaning.

So, even though Perturabo and Elaine didn't understand each other at first, he never questioned the star language.

Now, the Lord of Iron sees the potential of the Daughter of the Red Sands.

In the past, any Primordial Brothers would follow the Wolf Shepherd, and so would Perturabo.

He knew Horus, and he knew that a perfect general like Horus was good enough to do the duties of a professor.

But the father entrusted a young and promising sister to him to lead, and the meaning is self-evident.

He stared at the mighty fleet that was slowly sailing into the deep purple waves of subspace.

In the churning twisted shadows, the Iron Lord vaguely recalled the Crimson Eye he had seen in the stars as a child.

……

……