The Flame Forge Battle Barge shuddered in the turbulence as the once purplish-red void churned.
The Warp was being gnawed by some terrifying power.
The entire region rolled, sometimes splitting open with a black rift that exposed writhing viscera that seemed formed from geometry, so despair-inducing it was almost unbearable.
Darkness was slowly devouring this region of the Empyrean.
Under such a terrifying threat, the Battle Barge did not retreat. Instead, it continued advancing, metal creaking under the pressure.
Then countless streams of fire plunged toward the depths of the viscera.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
Not far away, more than a dozen Battleships of the Redemption Third Fleet, along with even more Cruisers, continuously erupted with fire.
Countless Macro-cannons, Torpedoes, Lances, and even Holy Ash Bombs bombarded the flesh-and-viscera wall ahead.
It was a Warp entity corrupted by the Dark Rift, blocking the path of the Disaster Relief Engineering Corps.
After the Flesh Wall came under attack, it writhed madly and crushed toward them, only to be driven back by ferocious firepower.
Even so, several Cruisers were unfortunate enough to burst into clouds of blood mist under the pressure—that was not an explosion, but utter destruction and disintegration, as if their very existence had been denied by a higher dimension.
"Faster. Faster! All warships, fire every remaining round within thirty standard Terra minutes!"
Voladi stared at the sand table map, constantly adjusting the fleet, his tone unwavering.
He had chosen the most dangerous method, advancing at the risk of being swallowed by the Flesh Wall in order to better complete the strategic objective.
This commander of the Redemption Third Fleet feared no risk. Advance, advance, and advance again—that was his only creed.
There was no other choice. They had to deliver that cargo—the Blackstone Fortress—to the designated region in the Warp.