Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 183: The Mother of Tears

Within the few short seconds of the transport fleet's destruction, Malakim felt he completely understood the tactic Soshyan had hinted at earlier.

"Sacrifices."

He summarized grimly:

"The altar of victory is piled high with sacrifices."

The Chapter's Sanguinary Priest standing beside him at that moment heard these words and shook his head.

"This is the price that must be paid for victory. War cannot be dictated by mercy, Chapter Master."

"Perhaps that is their way of war."

Malakim showed little expression, simply pulling up the attack vectors from the Tech-Priest.

"But not mine."

He carefully scrutinized the incoming enemies before him—there was still a portion of the Greenskin fleet unaffected by the explosion, and from among them, he picked out the largest one.It was like a massive, blood-drenched monster with a hunched spine, the exhaust from its thrusters wreathed around it like smoke.

"It looks practically undamaged, so we'll be the ones to take it down."

The Mother of Tears cut through the storm of flames and destruction, sailing straight into the center of the battlefield. Its powerful engines easily carved a wide arc.

On her flanks, other warships were also launching attacks against the panicked Greenskin fleet.

Naval guns spewed blazing torrents that covered the vacuum like dark clouds.

The Imperial Navy's light warships, at this moment, had ironically adopted a tactic similar to the Greenskins. Using their firepower as cover, they drove straight in without regard for anything else once they locked onto a target, and then launched torpedoes at point-blank range.

Currently, the capital ships still maintained their distance from the battlefield, sustaining their fire output. Only the Mother of Tears plunged into the heart of hell without hesitation, heading straight for the source of the destructive storm.

"Chapter Master, someone is hailing us."

The voice of the Choir Master aboard the Mother of Tears drifted over from afar.

"It's the Starfire."

"Wait a moment."

Malakim gave his reply without a second thought, his attention entirely focused on the warship before him.

"We'll respond after we finish off this bastard. My longsword can't wait to taste some blood."

Naturally, the Greenskin warship wouldn't just sit and wait for death. It, too, had prepared to return fire.

Two massive disruptor cannons extended from its heavy bow. Several scars could be seen running along its upper flanks, but none were enough to pose a threat to it.

From within those endlessly deep muzzles, non-stop crackling sounds could be heard—unquestionably the signal that these terrifying weapons were charging up.

"We're close enough."

Malakim calmly gave the order.

"Fire the main lance weapons."

The gunnery crews of the Mother of Tears had been waiting for the Chapter Master's command.

Upon receiving the order, the roar of energy cycling echoed through the air. The promethium igniters primed, and the long-accumulated plasma within the diverters roared incessantly.

As soon as the sound of firing rang out, the lance beams swept across the deep abyss before them with force capable of piercing metal and splitting stone, leaping forward.

This attack struck solidly beneath the bow of the Greenskin warship, right where the disruptor cannons were housed. The moment the two energies collided, a furious shockwave was unleashed, immediately followed by a massive explosion.

The Greenskin warship lost its balance, its engines operating frantically in an attempt to stabilize the hull.

"Continue."

The Mother of Tears kept roaring, its broadside batteries maintaining their barrage to try and open a breach in the shields.

When the distance between them closed to less than a hundred kilometers or so, the lance weapons fired again, accurately striking the already tottering enemy vessel.

"Send it on its way!"

Malakim roared, clenching his fists tightly.

At the same time, shellfire from the Greenskin ship struck the Mother of Tears, causing wave-like ripples to shudder across the void shields, before being compressed toward the bottom hull plates.

In that instant, the bridge jolted violently, and the view from the observation ports turned pitch black, leaving only the flicker of static. But the storm came as quickly as it went.

Such an attack was nowhere near enough to halt the advance of this ancient relic. The Tech-Priest pushed the engines of the Mother of Tears to maximum, speeding through the hail of fire as if risking their very lives to clear a path for the final lance strike.

After adjusting its position, the ship slowed down, completely drained its energy reserves, and then fired for a third time.

A miss at such close range was impossible. The lance beam instantly punched straight through the Greenskin ship's energy shields, reducing them to a burst of blinding fragments splattering in all directions.

An even greater catastrophe immediately followed. The destroyed shields ignited fires across the hull, which pierced deeper into the interior through the weakened sections.

The Mother of Tears promptly cut toward the starboard side of the Greenskin vessel, unleashing a tempestuous downpour of macrocannon fire.

Initially, the Greenskin warship was battered into temporary helplessness, its roof ablaze, plasma dissipating everywhere.

A moment later, it managed to force a laser barrage toward the Mother of Tears, but the scarlet marks creeping across its hull like spiderwebs had already exposed the most fatal problem—these were telltale signs of an implosion.

"We pull out!"

Malakim ordered with immense satisfaction:

"That is enough!"

The battle barge banked hard to starboard, squeezing every last ounce of thrust from every engine to ensure distance was put between them and their victim.

When the Mother of Tears had retreated barely twenty kilometers or so, the Greenskin warship's reactor finally detonated, tearing the entire ship to pieces from the inside out. Even its chassis fractured into fragments and collapsed.

Then, a contorted wave of shockwaves swept past, its wake swallowing up all the small ships in the vicinity.

Even the Mother of Tears was affected by the spreading, torrential shockwave. Driven by damaged gravity generators, the hull pitched downward violently and listed to one side, causing the ventilation pipes across the bridge's arched ceiling to shake uncontrollably.

The sound of explosions echoing up from the lower decks made it unmistakably clear that the engine room had also sustained damage.

"Maintain course, increase speed!"

Ignoring the reactionary shockwaves they had triggered through their slaughter, Malakim roared in exhilaration from his throne.

"Ready the lances, pick me another target!"

It had been too long since he had tasted victory. The gloom and despair that had built up over a long period exploded all at once in this moment, transforming into unspeakable madness.

Corpses of warships swathed in halos of fire glided past the Mother of Tears, scraping against the void shields, but ultimately failing to pierce through them.

The scattered wreckage that crashed against the hull, or the shrapnel that grazed it, were mostly still burning, emitting bright flashes every time they struck the shields.

The warriors of the Lamenters Chapter rejoiced at every piece of spinning, drifting debris before their eyes, and the mortals joined in the celebration.

They now knew how they should destroy the enemy—by attacking head-on with overwhelming firepower, catching the enemy off guard, unable to defend, crumbling in an instant.

Against such an adversary, strategy had no place; only barbaric onslaught was the path to victory.

But right then, the communications officer called out loudly.

"An emergency direct connection from the Starfire, my lord!"

"What happened?"

Malakim immediately opened the open channel.

First came a burst of crackling, the hiss of static, and then he heard an urgent voice.

"Chapter Master Malakim, come to our aid immediately! Nazdreg is trying to escape!!!"