Primarch Battles The Fallen

The clamor surged through the fleet’s communication channels.

The voices of commanders and legion high command rose and fell, punctuated now and then by roars.

The fleet moved steadily according to precisely planned tactical protocols.

The Faci Empire’s capital world—Duran—hung within visible range.

At first, it had only been a slightly dazzling star.

As the fleet drew nearer, its outline grew larger and larger.

Hundreds of warships headed toward the Sixth Legion’s fleet.

They were the Faci Empire’s last remaining naval force.

Raven lounged lazily on a tiny throne padded with the hide of some unknown beast.

By Astartes standards, the throne was practically miniature.

It was only a few dozen centimeters long and wide.

A single Wolf Guard could easily lift it and hold it steady.

The other Wolf Guards were responsible for carrying fries and ketchup.

Raven had little interest in the war, treating it merely as entertainment to pass the time.

"Pick up the pace. Send them on their way," Leman Russ ordered, staring intently at the tactical projection.

Sensing their master’s killing intent, the two giant wolves, Gili and Kulich, curled up beside the Primarch also let out low growls.

The Void Battlefield swiftly reached a fever pitch.

The Faci Empire’s remnants displayed unimaginable courage.

To them, Duran was their Terra.

Of course, that was not to say its grandeur and splendor could compare to Terra’s, but rather that it held the same place in their hearts.

Humanity had first set foot on this world more than a dozen eras ago.

As the years passed, the people here had long since forgotten Terra even existed.

They regarded Duran as their homeworld.

In their minds, Duran meant the same thing as Earth.

They would never hand Duran over without a fight, just as the Human Empire would surely devote all its strength to protecting Terra.

Faced with the Human Empire’s savage offensive, they knew they were bound to lose and had nowhere left to retreat.

Yet they would never surrender. They would resist to the end.

Even knowing death was the final outcome, Duran’s people would bleed dry for every inch of their sacred homeland.

Raven pitied Duran’s inhabitants, but he would not stop the Sixth Legion.

To preserve the unity of human civilization, blood had to be shed.

The road to glory was destined to be woven from blood and fire.

The Faci Empire’s bulky crimson prows glowed with light from their viewport reactors, illuminating the surrounding orbits.

The defensive orbital stations around Duran also opened fire at full capacity.

They frantically poured energy beams, missiles, and shells at the Sixth Legion’s fleet.

Dense beams lit up the dark void, weaving fleetingly brilliant galaxies.

Amid continuous flashes, terrifying explosions came one after another. There was no sound, but the slowly expanding shockwaves were clearly visible.

Faci fighter formations darted through the frenzied battlefield, dancing with agile grace.

Flames endlessly spewed from the barrels beneath their fuselages.

Lasers crisscrossed like nets, while sparks from explosions raged and spread.

Burning fragments of metal periodically snapped apart and fell away, as though every inch of the void had been packed full with the smoke of war.

Duran’s people resisted fiercely and without fear of death.

But the Human Empire’s Second Generation Warships far surpassed Faci warships in both performance and firepower.

Courage and fearlessness could not erase the gap created by technology.

As the fierce battle continued, ship after ship was destroyed.

A Faci warship’s shields were breached, and it was instantly swallowed by a dense barrage of shells.

Terrifying explosions tore apart its heavy hull.

The crew within were flung out and scattered into space.

Dense Lance of Light fire and lasers pierced through the fighters’ fuselages.

They punched straight through them, turning them into clusters of burning fireballs.

Some Faci warship fire struck Sixth Legion vessels, only to be blocked by thick void shields, stirring nothing more than layer upon layer of wave-like ripples and tremors without breaking through.

The Human Empire’s counterattacks, meanwhile, often turned those Faci warships into fireworks in the void.

The Faci fleet quickly collapsed.

The surviving ships fled toward the star fort with their battered hulls trailing behind them.

The wild wolves pursued relentlessly.

The orbital defenses surrounding Duran fired at full power.

Their enormous structures were studded with anti-ship weapons, enough to challenge even the shields of Second Generation Warships.

But the Sixth Legion’s greatest strength was not its steel-forged warships, but the demigod warriors blessed by the Emperor.

Once breaches had been opened in the orbital defenders’ shields, the wild wolves used teleportation to enter the orbital defense stations and engage in close-quarters slaughter.

Thousands upon thousands of wild wolves entered the orbital stations.

They slaughtered their way from one command post to another, destroying enemy weapons systems, killing every defender, and smashing everything they encountered along the way.

To protect their homeland, Duran’s defenders went mad as well.

They deployed large numbers of war leviathans, built trenches, and stationed mechanized forces to hold their ground.

Heavy weapons had been placed at every chokepoint.

"For the Primarch, for the Allfather, for Raven!"

"Long live Leman, King of the Russ!"

The wild wolves roared, raising their battle-axes and Power Swords high.

They threw themselves into the slaughter, destroying every resisting force in the Empire’s name.

The tide of destruction spread like some plague, rapidly infecting the orbital station.

The lights went dark sector by sector, and blood flowed with them.

Raging flames spread swiftly from one node to the next.

The orbital station finally fell.

Not many defenders survived.

For their homeland, they had given everything.

In this battle, Duran’s defenders performed countless tragic acts of heroism.

They launched suicidal charges while clutching melta bombs.

Even after losing their legs or having their eyes blasted out, they continued to resist.

The wild wolves could not help but regard them with respect, admiring their determination and sacrifice in defense of their homeland.

But it could not change the final outcome.

The orbital station had fallen, and the Faci fleet had been annihilated.

Duran was surrounded by the wild wolves’ fleet, a fish on the chopping block that could only await the blade.

"We need a swifter offensive. Cut off enemy support and kill Duran’s Tyrant. Only then can we minimize casualties."

After taking the orbital station, Leman Russ gathered the military high command to discuss the ground campaign.

The people of Duran had been heavily indoctrinated.

Once the Sixth Legion launched its offensive, it would inevitably provoke fierce resistance.

Ordinary humans posed no trouble for the wild wolves.

With Second Generation Gene Engines implanted in them, they could easily slaughter those people.

But after so many battles, they had also come to understand Duran’s resolve.

Those people only wanted to "protect their homeland."

Slaughter had no meaning.

The proper path was to swiftly and precisely remove the head, shatter the locals’ will to resist, and prevent further casualties.

Once a detailed battle plan had been devised for the palace where Duran’s ruler resided, the airborne operation began.

The warships in orbit scanned without pause.

They locked onto vital military targets: defensive artillery, barracks, laser arrays, turrets, missile silos, airfields, and more.

Then came the orbital bombardment.

Artillery fire swept over the designated fire zones again and again like a storm.

The dazzling beams unleashed by the warships’ laser weapons surged without end. These lethal attacks slipped nimbly through the paths of their descent and struck their designated targets with precision.

Once the enemy had completely lost the ability to retaliate, vast numbers of fighters burst from their carriers like swarms of bees and plunged toward Duran’s atmosphere.

On the surface, portals opened amid flickering clusters of lightning.

Wild wolf warriors charged out through the portals.

Tanks, Titans, Knight Mechs, auxilia forces, and other units were also deployed to the battlefield.

Titans descended like world-ending giants. Their core power reactors shone with stellar radiance, their propulsion engines roared like giants bellowing, and their massive gun barrels swung back and forth, impatient to lock onto target after target.

Rotary cannons blazed, unleashing terrifying beams, while Power Claws wrapped in lightning easily destroyed towering walls and ramparts.

Duran’s mechanized forces fought desperately against the Human Empire’s first wave of attack.

They launched countercharges through the hail of gunfire, trying to close in on the Empire’s positions.

Whenever bullets struck the barriers, multicolored light flared.

Mobile artillery emerged from behind camouflaged fortifications, their thick barrels nearly parallel to the ground as they shook violently under recoil.

Heavily armed, massive walking mechs slowly emerged from the shadows beneath the city walls. The launchers mounted on their shoulders aimed at the bloodiest sectors and mercilessly fired grenades into them.

All manner of deadly heavy weapons were thrown into the battlefield.

The casualty count became a cold set of numbers.

Leman Russ also joined the battle. With Kraken’s Maw in hand, he easily tore through both armor and shields.

Before the enemy could react, the great sword had already swept through them with overwhelming force.

Death blossomed among the enemy ranks as lifeless human bodies continually flew into the air and crashed back to the ground.

At times, he also wielded those unimaginable powers, tearing open thick city walls, dismantling colossal mechs, and crushing gun emplacements covered in heavy armor.

Under his personal leadership, the vanguard smashed through the enemy’s defenses like a hot knife through butter and reached the depths of the palace.

Emperor of Duran’s personal guard resisted fiercely.

But Leman Russ was too powerful, his combat strength enough to inspire despair.

Not a single guard could get near him, nor could any guard escape his sight alive.

Squelch!!

The sound of a blade piercing flesh was clearly audible.

Crimson blood flowed and dripped onto the floor.

"Rest now," Leman Russ said with pity in his voice as he slowly withdrew the blade.

The guard, eyes wide open, slowly collapsed, his life extinguished.

Glancing around at the Wolf Guards clearing out the remaining guards, Leman Russ stepped forward, crossed the threshold, and entered the great hall.

"Follow him," Raven said lazily.

The Wolf Guards carrying the throne, fries, and ketchup hurried after Leman Russ into the great hall.

The hall’s furnishings were lavish and extravagant, worthy of its owner’s noble status.

As far as the eye could see, countless intricate corridors led to various antechambers, rooms, and alcoves.

Though the lighting was soft and pleasant, the temperature inside was inexplicably high enough to be unbearable.

Heat poured through the arched Gothic windows. Looking outside, they could see the fiery red sky still burning.

The domed ceiling bore a mosaic of a coiled dragon symbolizing Duran, and beneath it stood a throne entirely black.

A solitary figure sat upon it: a man wrapped in crimson robes, frail and decrepit, his skin possessing the translucent quality of parchment.

"Time to settle accounts again," Raven muttered. "Husky, you’ve eliminated another enemy of the Empire."

Leman Russ turned and smiled at Raven on his miniature throne, then looked toward the figure.

"Surrender. You have already lost. Accept the Empire’s enlightenment, join united human civilization, and continue resisting only if you wish to die."

"You have reduced everything we spent thousands of years building to ashes and call it victory. And now you demand that we accept your enlightenment." Emperor of Duran gave a weary, mocking smile.

"You rejected peace, which is why you brought this disaster upon yourselves," Leman Russ said. "If you had accepted the envoys’ terms, none of this would have happened. Instead, you would have gained even more and enjoyed the many benefits brought by humanity’s rise."

"But we do not need you to give us more. We only want to live our own lives," Emperor of Duran said. "We endured crises for thousands of years and had only just seen civilization’s dawn, yet you demand that we kneel and submit."

"This is for humanity’s rise," Leman Russ said.

"There was once another group who claimed they acted for humanity. Their atrocities tore human civilization apart and caused a war that swept across the entire galaxy," Emperor of Duran mocked. "How many vile deeds in this galaxy have been cloaked in noble names?"

"Why waste so many words?" Raven lazily stretched out his claws. "Our technology and system are superior, so our fighting strength is greater, so we won. The winner has the right to decide the fate of the loser. That is the truth of this universe."

Emperor of Duran tried to speak again, but Raven cut him off. "I know you want to argue, but I don’t want to hear it. A win is a win, and a loss is a loss. Justice has nothing to do with it."

"We believe this will help humanity rise, so this is what we do. You may refuse to accept it, but you lost."

"Now order your army to surrender and bring this to an end. Resistance has no meaning. If you are willing to gamble, you must accept defeat."

Leman Russ silently gave a thumbs-up in his heart.

As expected of Mr. Raven. His verbal attacks were invincible.

Emperor of Duran stared at Raven in astonishment, then finally surrendered and was taken prisoner by the Empire.

The Faci Empire was declared destroyed, and its territories and colonies were absorbed into the Empire.

Terra.

Corvus did not know how he had walked out of the throne room.

For the next few days, he remained in a daze.

His head was full of golden thrones and the Emperor wrapped in light.

When he regained his previous look of concentration once more, he had already boarded a supply ship bound for the Transformers Universe.

Unicron’s minion, The Fallen, was leading a massive army of Transformers to encircle and suppress the Imperial army led by the three Primarchs, Lion El’Jonson, Sanguinius, and Guilliman.

This war involved multiple fields and dimensions, holding great educational significance for a Primarch like Corvus who had not yet been implanted with a Gene Engine.

Therefore, he was urgently dispatched to the Transformers Universe.

As soon as Corvus entered the Transformers Universe, bad news came in.

The Fallen led numerous elites to raid the fortress.

The Imperial command post fell, and the three Primarchs plunged into a bitter fight.