Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 186: Tolerance

Taking a Thunderhawk from the Mother of Tears to the Starfire, they headed straight into the open hangar bay, touching down onto the smoke-wreathed landing pads.

Malakim stepped off the boarding ramp first, followed by the four individuals accompanying him.

The Astral Knights had already formed up in ranks, waiting here. Even the Excoriators Chapter was present. Hundreds of men were fully assembled in combat formation.

Battle standards fluttered within the great hall, each one marking a battle worthy of remembrance.

Servo-skulls buzzed above their heads, flying to and fro dragging censers to mask the rank stench of burning promethium.

The lighting in the hangar bay was dim, with only sporadic points of light flickering quietly. The corridor was long and eerie, its walls looking as though they were hewn from ancient megaliths of unknown age.

"It seems they are all quite angry."

Malakim murmured. He looked toward the Astral Knights and the Excoriators Chapter. Even though everyone's face was hidden beneath their helmets, it wasn't hard to imagine what expressions those faces bore—contempt, indifference, and anger.

Standing at the very front of the formation was the master of this flagship, appearing exceptionally distinguished among the host of angels. He rested his right hand upon the hilt of his longsword, quietly awaiting his guests.

Soshyan Alexei. The way he stood was as if he had maintained that posture since the day he was born—back perfectly straight, his stance flawlessly impeccable."Welcome, Chapter Master Malakim."

As Malakim approached, Soshyan gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

"Brother Soshyan."

Malakim stopped his steps, offering neither a handshake nor an embrace.

The warriors of both Chapters did the same, standing in place without moving an inch, just like Malakim's retinue.

The entire hangar fell into a deathly silence.

Very, very slowly, as if a cliff face inevitably enduring the agonizing rot of being scoured by time and tide, Malakim walked toward Soshyan and lowered his head.

"I am sorry, we—"

Although his voice was very soft, it still spread to every corner.

Before he could finish, Soshyan abruptly extended his arms, took a few large strides forward, and firmly embraced Malakim.

"This is not your fault. War changes in the blink of an eye; no one can completely control it."

Every word and phrase that left his mouth was filled with a resonant and solemn tone.

"I do not blame you, nor the battle brothers of the Lamenters. You fought well."

After a moment of stunned silence, Malakim returned the warm embrace.

"Thank you, thank... you, Brother Soshyan."

Magyar then stepped forward, bursting into a bout of hearty laughter, and patted both men heavily on the shoulders.

"So, now we've settled this matter."

He said cheerfully:

"I have already drafted a plan of attack for Vorenus Prime."

The two warriors released each other. Soshyan looked at Lord Magyar and said with a smile:

"How about you bring it out and share it with us right now?"

"Of course."

Malakim suddenly interjected:

"Let's just head to our ship to discuss it."

Given that the Starfire was severely damaged and the Endless Night had also taken heavy hits, only the Mother of Tears remained relatively unharmed. The two men agreed to go to the Mother of Tears for the strategic discussion.

The conference room aboard the Mother of Tears was built in the likeness of an ancient monastery on Baal. The room was hexagonal in shape. Iron lanterns hung upon the walls, casting a mottled, faint luminescence that illuminated the neat grid pattern on the marble floor, polished to a mirror shine.

Candle flames flickered upon heavy candelabras, with melted teardrops quietly dripping down from time to time.

The omnipresent alcoves were carved full of stone reliefs. These sculpted visages of Sanguinius gazed somberly upon everyone who passed before them.

Various echoes constantly reverberated beneath the lofty dome—the crisp sound of blades scraping stone, the heavy thuds of reinforced ceramite armor stepping upon the floor, and the rustle of power armor gauntlets tapping across dataslates.

There were no seats here; everyone remained standing—the three Chapter Masters stood in the center, while their retinues lined up in order behind them.

Floating before this group of fully armed warriors was a golden, slowly rotating holographic projection of a planet, with all major zones clearly marked upon it.

Vorenus was a deeply fortified world, with massive tracts above ground modified into military installations.

Giant pylons stood tall, alongside exceptionally colossal engines surrounding them, continuously supplying the planet with abundant energy, the majority of which was used to maintain the defensive barriers over key strongholds.

"These Greenskins have been entrenched here for two or three hundred years, giving them plenty of time to fortify their nest."

Magyar began to explain the results of their long-term reconnaissance.

"During this recent period, they've expended even greater effort to fortify this world. The Greenskin boss probably knew full well that his fleet couldn't hold us off for too long, so he now rests all his hopes on ground defenses. Look at these fortifications; many of them are newly built."

Soshyan carefully scrutinized the structural diagram before him. From a holistic perspective, Vorenus's northern hemisphere was almost entirely covered in trenches and fortifications, mostly built around heavy power generators.

"What is this?"

He reached out, pointing to a certain node upon it, from which countless spiderweb-like lines extended, spreading outward in a chaotic sprawl.

Magyar laughed.

"What you see is the very heart of this planet, the central network connecting all strongholds on this world. Look here, this is our scan record."

With a flick of his fingers, he converted the translucent image into a solid representation, and several dots surfaced on the thumbnail.

One of them revealed overlapping, fortified outer wall structures, rising higher and higher in tandem with the naturally steep inclines.

Crude highways were constructed between the different elevations, linking together circular zones that appeared to be defensive towers.

Magyar zoomed the image in further, allowing everyone present to clearly see the unbroken line of cannons situated atop the ridge.

Right in the center of the fortifications, a majestic fortress stood towering proudly, surrounded by high battlements and topped with a countless number of defensive towers.

Just like its own color, the surrounding land was also blanketed in a deep, yellowish-brown hue.

"The fortress of the Greenskin Warlord of the Vorenus System."

Soshyan nodded, silently calculating the dimensions of this fortress and the potential entry points.

"Astonishing."

His eyes swept rapidly across the floating holographic image, taking in every detail completely.

"This fortress is larger than most hive cities I've seen."

"Exactly. Based on our calculations, if we choose orbital bombardment, it would take several months to break down the defenses of Vorenus Prime."

Magyar brought up a series of data.

"And their shields. As you are well aware, until their power source is cut off, they are very difficult to destroy directly."