Battle!

"..."

Tyberos silently nodded, accepting Ramesses's arrangements.

The Sharks dispersed of their own accord, silently seeking out the Ancient Warriors who were as silent as themselves.

Kahurangi carefully noted down Ramesses's words. He discovered that this psyker master was fixated on the number thirteen in everything he did, and did his utmost to avoid the numbers six, seven, eight, and nine.

He pondered briefly, deciding that he should later suggest to Lord Tyberos that the Carcharodons expand to thirteen companies, with one hundred and thirty men in each.

"Akia, and Shar."

Tyberos swept his gaze around the group, picked out the two who fit in least, and spoke.

"You cannot go."

"Huh?"

Akia, who had been flexing his hands in anticipation, froze and stared at the Chapter Master in shock.

One form of bullying among Space Marines was getting into a fight without bringing you along.

"Lord!"

Akia immediately grew anxious, weaving through the ranks at great speed until he stood before Tyberos.

"Two veterans from First Company will replace you."

Tyberos answered him bluntly.

"You have not concealed your gifts."

"..."

Akia could not help but feel frustrated upon hearing that.

He had always taken pride in the bloodline whose instincts he had overcome, a bloodline that did not burn him up from within. He had never imagined that this very bloodline would now keep him from the battlefield.

"Let them follow me. Things will not stay quiet on my side."

Karna spoke gently.

He had never much liked wearing a helmet, and his pale, handsome face was exposed beneath the lights.

To Akia, that face seemed like an angel's.

"Just remember not to get ahead of me."

Akia and Shar nodded frantically.

Formation order did not matter. As long as they got to cut down some Xenos, that was enough.

The two First Company Sharks who had just left the ranks withdrew in disappointment.

"Ready?"

Facing the passageway swallowed by shadow ahead, Arthur asked as he activated the Disruption Field along his blade.

The Drukhari were clever. They had cut the power, destroyed parts of the passageways, and created a battlefield that belonged solely to them, yet they had not enraged the Archmagos.

They had kept things well within that threshold. The Archmagos only wanted to send these troublesome people away, while the Xenos wanted even more to achieve their objective without bloodshed.

And their mutual compromise had now given the Transmigrators ample time to prepare.

"Ready."

Shaking the droplets clinging to his hair, Romulus, somewhat irritated by them, still chose to put on his helmet.

Ramesses put on a show of pressing down on the coffin, guiding the peculiar psychic intimidation of the Slaanesh Demon.

"Do not look at me."

From a psychic perspective, pink mist that was unpleasant to behold seeped from the seams of the iron coffin. It was suppressed by psychic power within the patterns on the coffin's surface, brewing deadly fluctuations.

The passageway seemed to have grown colder.

Then, the holographic images prepared by Romulus were precisely transmitted to every Shark's receiver, each containing the route assigned exclusively to their small group.

"Karna will assault the core area, tear open a gap in their defenses, and create an opportunity. Tyberos and Arthur will conduct high-speed sweeps along the routes I have provided. Upon encountering the Xenos Archon, immediately disperse and deal with its accompanying forces. Each group will advance according to its route. The veterans will use Lasguns to point out the enemy's direction. Each group..."

Every warrior quietly watched the data before their eyes and listened to the voice ringing in their ears.

Their time studying the Codex Astartes had not been wasted. All manner of tactical knowledge flashed through their minds before being condensed into the briefest, most professional terminology and relayed to the Sharks who needed it.

Such meticulous mission planning felt novel to the Sharks, but it also gave them an inexplicable sense of security.

In the past, the Sharks' command had never been so disciplined.

Target, position, then slaughter. Everything in between was left to personal experience and improvisation.

This was also Romulus's first time commanding a battle on a real battlefield, yet he did not feel particularly nervous.

He had activated his clairvoyance, run every necessary simulation, and had a domain skill to weaken the enemy's stats. He also had a detailed battle plan and could monitor the battlefield at any time.

In theory, so long as Karna's group and the other two groups with the strongest striking power tore open three breaches as planned, allowing the following teams to form localized numerical advantages, they could wipe out the vast majority of the enemy's living strength before the enemy even reacted.

Then all that remained would be a one-sided slaughter. So long as their luck was not abysmal, multiple Astartes against these Dark Knife-ears was an easy beating.

Romulus believed in himself, in his companions, and in the strength the Carcharodons had forged amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

All he had to do was point these killing machines toward the enemy, arrange every detail of the battlefield, and pass this confidence in certain victory on to every one of them.

Because the warriors believed they were ancient heroes of war, then they were heroes of war now.

"This is my first time commanding a battle like this. Please let me witness your skill and learn from you. And please entrust your lives to my hands, without reservation."

Romulus's voice resounded in every Shark's ears as the Warp's shadow concealed their souls, surrounded on all sides.

Not a single sound came through the comms.

He felt their calm.

The Sharks' calm was like the ticking hand upon volatile explosives, like the storm about to fall from a gloomy sky.

Within every warrior's sealed chest, sharp fangs ground against one another.

It was the best answer.

Romulus understood what these warriors wished to hear, and he also knew what he needed to give them.

"Then let us move forward. I will bring you victory, and the chance to offer another victory to the Emperor."

Having chosen to take up this identity, he had to bear its weight.

His voice rang with strength.

"Show me whether the Carcharodons are still as formidable in battle as their ancestors from Terra."

Just one short sentence brought the unit's morale to its peak.

The blessed skull flickered. The Ark's vital facilities at the rear were all obscured by steel structures that had crashed down from the other end of the warship.

"Let us not dishonor the blood of Sanguinius!"

With a magnificent roar, the dark Angel took the lead, vanishing into the darkness at a speed too swift even for an Angel of the Emperor to follow, sounding the horn of attack.

An invisible shockwave, deep pink from a psychic perspective, immediately spread outward and passed through the equally invisible Sharks.

Bzzzz—

Chainsaws spun. Tyberos broke into a charge, dim shadows winding around him and rendering the terrifying giant's run utterly silent.

More than a hundred warriors charged into the shadows at the same moment, following their designated routes. A horrifying pallid white appeared in their eyes, otherwise drowned in endless black.

Let them slaughter the enemy in the swiftest, bloodiest manner, and seize victory once more.

This time, they fought not only to survive, nor merely to destroy the enemy.

They also fought to prove to the Ancients, who had been separated from this Milky Way for ten thousand years—

That they possessed the power to defend humanity beneath the gaze of endless evils!