"This clan commander has actually done a good job. But he's been so accustomed to mechanical precision and obedience in communication that he's forgotten that others need to be appeased, just like he once was," Vogrim whispered to his companion in his amniotic fluid, "and you know, the primordial human being itself is the vessel and the boundary of the soul, and the mechanical prostheses that accompany and occupy his life do strengthen him, making him faster, stronger, tougher, and tireless, but they also dissolve the boundaries between his human body and the cold machinery. ”

Garuda responded only succinctly.

"—Wrong. Distorted cravings, blind addictions, and excessive dependence. will be corrected. As long as the time comes. ”

The purple court phoenix sighed softly again, I don't know who it was for.

Thanks to the Hall of Conquest of Rakuan, which was later repaired by Fogham and the Iron Hands, the rejuvenated fortress ship has leapt out of subspace and moved to orbit over Shadenus.

It took them a lot less time to get here than expected, so by the time they arrived, the battle was in the final stages of the heat.

The Iron Hand ships and the Imperial Navy greeted them with surprise and trepidation in the orbit of Shadnus, and the Iron Hand Astartes, who had been filled with new miracle powers, quickly dispatched a few sergeants to take over the ships of their warband, which were largely free of Astarte, and then used the brain-computer interface to start a high-speed analysis session in the Hall of Conquest.

"I won't mention how the inhabitants of this place have completely evaporated...... One hundred and thirty-six Battle Monks and seven Dreadnoughts are all on the ground? And what about the people left behind by the battleship? Why is it that only one company of the Rakuan clan is attacking here? What about the other four clan companies that Raus brought with him? ”

Faced with this series of questions, Markan Ferros stepped forward to answer the question of the genetic protogen.

"Commander Rauss calculated that he needed to get to his destination as quickly as possible, so he threw in all of his Iron Hand forces from the start. The self-disciplined servants and technical sergeants who remained behind had no problem maintaining a strong driving and track function. The other four clan companies are scattered in this sub-sector as planned to complete their own planned suppression mission. My father. ”

When Vogrim heard the last stolen and pretentious title, his expression visibly became uncomfortable in his amniotic fluid, and of course, the Iron Hands would not see it.

The emotional impulse that Garuda once again transmitted to the fearless driver at this time contained all kinds of complex feelings: toughness, logic, rationality, embarrassment, shame...... However, what prompted the Purple Court Phoenix to finally decide to continue to endure his very undignified impersonation was the imperceptible pleading emotion mixed with it.

"On schedule?" Vogrim asked the Iron Father, "So, your five clan companies came to the same sub-sector to fight for the same purpose, but in fact, they didn't even communicate with each other on the issue of coordinated operations for the key targets they attacked, and they weren't prepared to call for each other's support?" Although you are guessing that maybe the main problem here is so big that it will require more people to be sacrificed to complete it? ”

"This." The muscles of Ferros's half-face, which was not covered in steel, twitched, "Yes. In fact, we rarely communicate these days. ”

"Oh, that's right." The voice came from Dreadnought, with a kind of judgment that had been building up for a long time.

"After you left ...... 'me', you started to fight each other again, didn't you? Also, look at the 'those' I saw in the Eye of Medusa that should have been sealed forever! In other words, you didn't listen to me! Fortunately, Medusa's Iron Council at least retains the right to renovate and distribute the Great Armory and Reliquary, otherwise I'd have seen more than a dozen warbands named after clans when I came back, right? I should thank you for not sharing my inheritance and going back to their own tribes to live their own lives, huh?! ”

Markan Ferros had apparently never been questioned with such obvious emotions in his life: those who could question him so in the hierarchy were more emotionally absent and suppressed than he was, and therefore would not have been so intense; And mortals who have retained their emotions will never and dare not question a revered Iron Father in this way.

As if shattering some kind of mask of calm self-sufficiency that had been said for 10,000 years, the Iron Father's logic loop began to be overloaded with an overabundance of uncalculable and unpredictable actions, and the valiant warrior began to stammer, rarely stammering, kneeling on one knee in an attempt to calm the Primordial's sudden outbursts of rage.

"No...... No...... It's not like that, I mean, great Gorgon, you...... Please calm your anger, now that you are back, all this will be corrected! We will be as close to you as we have been in the past! ”

Garuda conveyed a feeling of urgency, shame, indignation, and extreme protest in his pulse signal at this moment, and then was pressed back by the Purple Court Phoenix with a sneer.

He told his metal-winged friend that it would have been a great humiliation for him and the Third Legion to have him, the proud Palatine Phoenix, pass off as another genetic protogen, and that if someone wasn't even willing to pay that price, he'd rather try to jump out of the void now and see if he could return to his own galaxy, and then a chirping bird would explain to the Iron Hand that the rest was his own business.

There is no doubt that no matter what factors Garuda used to make the trade-off, he eventually compromised.

As a result, a new tactical scheme of rapid stealth strike was proposed, which required perfect timing to be delivered.

"Void Shield?" When Ferros's doubts were cautiously raised, Dauntless replied, "Don't worry, take your strongest weapons, and follow me, children of Gorgon." ”

——————

There are demons everywhere.

Demons are everywhere. It's as if this is no longer a solid reality, but has crossed the veil to reach another realm. They attacked and taunted the Iron Hand Battle Monks from all sides.

Mortals are everywhere. Note that this term describes a "physical meaning". The bricks and tiles on the walls were all the flesh and bones of human beings, the hands of steel struggling to climb the ladder of tongues and teeth that were still wriggling and chewing, and on each of the pillars visible here were countless vague faces stitched together by some ritual or witchcraft power, screaming in the wails and ecstasies of pleasure brought by pain, each of which screamed together as if it were some kind of twisted hymn, thinner the thin boundary between reality and subspace.

It has been carefully and long built into an altar, a temple, a gift to the bitter desires of the evil Chaos gods.

Even the air was filled with corruption and hostility, inexplicable falling rocks, fire, venom fountains and spikes, this place was full of malice and demons, like a dense tide of insects flocking to the warriors of the Iron Hand, who could not wait to devour, corrupt, and shake the sons of Ferus, but the only ones who remained had no scruples to let go of their limits, and gave the maximum effort, slashed without reservation, and endured greater casualties, all for the sake of speed.

In Raus's plan, in the end, only one person can complete the closure of the subspace rift ritual, their chief think tank Trazi, they all know what the final price is, and the chief think tank also knows that they have carried so many lives and souls on their bodies, they have used the flesh and blood of countless mortals to pave the only path to here, they must not fail.

Before Raus knew it, his fiery emotional turmoil had made him shine like a torch in this subspace-like place: guilt. He felt guilty that he had sacrificed mortals but had not been able to arrive sooner, and the anger of guilt had made him invincible among the demons.

The Chief Think Tank Trazi was also glowing, but for different reasons than his commander, the Iron Hand Think Tank was running and unreservedly sucking the power of psionic energy into his body, which became very easy in a place that had become a subspace-like environment, and his whole being was glowing—burning—he was about to burn, without the screaming and various alarms that swept through his armor and the sharpness that was becoming more and more evident in his flesh.

This utterly unscrupulous use of psionic energy led Trazi, along with the three think tank members who escorted him, to the platform at the top of the main nest - a large hole had been opened in the explosion of the air system, leaving it almost completely exposed to the sky.

Trazi's eyes glowing with supernatural blue light saw it, he saw it, just as Raus and he had predicted, the countless demonic armies behind the crack in the subspace that was almost about to burst in one poke—

He raised his staff—

Not right-

A sweet, seductive and disgusting laugh rang out near them.

(End of chapter)