Victory Above All!

The soldiers of the 43rd Regiment saw the Angel's figure, and their morale received a considerable boost.

But in Arthur's perception, these dutiful soldiers were not in very good condition, at least judging by their appearance alone.

After all, he was not blind. Though he had not felt any adverse effects from the Warp himself, he could still sense the unusually intense surreal phenomena here.

Because the Strike Cruiser's outer armor had been smashed open by the Orks' iron hulk, the ship now contained far more than just the grotesque horrors lurking in its corridors.

The Warp corruption constantly present within the vessel kept affecting the surrounding environment, including every living thing within it.

Even though the Geller Field was still operating, the warriors who had endured the influence of such massive Warp energies could not avoid symptoms such as mental disorientation and involuntary bodily spasms.

The more serious cases had even developed obvious mutations across their skin. The wounded in the rear had armor fused to their flesh, leaving even the medics unsure where to begin. In the end, they could only resort to violent cutting. Even Arthur could not help but feel his heart tighten at the horrific sight beneath the armor.

Other than retaining a rough human silhouette, these soldiers were nearly unrecognizable as human.

Worst of all, the tissue that had fallen from the wounded during surgery had not lost its vitality. Instead, it fused with whatever inorganic matter it touched, resembling tumors growing from the surface of the skin.

Arthur watched expressionlessly until the medics finished treating the wounded, then very decisively picked up flamers and fought the fleshy tumors.

Only after confirming that the medics had reduced those mutated tissues to ashes did he lower the Volkite Gun he had kept ready to fire. He turned his head toward the massive breach on the bridge.

If the Ork warship had rammed any deeper, the steel beneath their feet might have become alive.

The sounds of Imperial troops fighting the enemy could still be heard nearby. Even the howling Autoguns could not drown out the battle cries of the Imperium's loyal warriors, though there was something in those cries that seemed to be fleeing from fear.

Such brief contact alone could inflict this degree of mutation upon living flesh. It was difficult to imagine what the consequences would be if that power acted upon the mind.

Having personally experienced Warhammer 40k's particular brand of brutality, he became even more wary of the Warp. At the same time, his respect for the Astra Militarum, who could continue fighting in such an environment, deepened considerably.

He could only hope these soldiers would recover their condition soon. The results of the coming operation would still require their strength to maintain.

As Arthur silently considered this, the two of them arrived at the temporary command post inside the defensive line.

Before they even entered, they heard a woman's voice.

"You mean that, without confirming the enemy's exact numbers, equipment composition, or battle deployment, we are to lead our forces in a breakthrough toward the Geller Field Generator after losing contact with the Deathwatch kill team?"

Her voice was full of doubt, but it was not fear of battle. It stemmed from an assessment of the current situation.

"We should wait for that Ultramarine's return. Under that lord's command, we can gather the regiment's remaining mobile forces for an assault, secure every key point, and establish a defensive line leading directly to the Geller Field, with every position able to support the others."

"Correct. And we are not deploying the entire regiment. I will lead a squad assembled from elite personnel selected from every unit. Discovering those unknown details is precisely what we must do. This is a sacrifice for the Emperor, and returning our souls to the Golden Throne is an honor."

Faced with the questioning, the Commissar explained patiently.

In a place saturated with the Warp's evil influence, any extreme emotion could easily be provoked by wicked things. Only calmness and unwavering faith in the great Emperor could endure.

Of course, there were also Commissars who were domineering and cold-blooded, threatening execution at every turn. But people like that usually did not live long in such an environment.

"But without you, how can the regiment's morale be maintained?"

The Canoness looked worried. She had fought at the edge of the defensive line before, so she naturally knew how dire the situation there was.

These battle-hardened warriors did not fear fighting heretics and xenos alone. Even if bayonets were pressed to their throats and blazing flames devoured them, these brave soldiers would still swing their entrenching shovels at the enemy without hesitation.

But fighting within the Warp was different. Bodily mutation and the whispers constantly lingering in their ears were the greatest challenges to military morale. Those were not things mortals were meant to endure.

"Look around us. The Warp's evil power is gnawing at you and me every moment. Time is not on our side. Even if we fall, we should fall while charging toward the Emperor's enemies."

The Commissar spoke seriously. No expression could be seen on the half of his face covered by machinery, but determination remained in his eyes. They had very little time left, and even if they scouted a route and the main force reached the Geller Field Generator, their chances of victory were less than one in ten thousand.

Yet clearly, this was the best way he could think of to break the deadlock.

Sending soldiers into an unknown area for close-quarters combat with the enemy was an extreme irresponsibility toward their lives, but war always forced them to make choices they had no choice but to make.

"As for guarding the elevator entrance, I believe Colonel Kovek himself can fulfill that duty well."

"But—"

"Clatter~"

Arthur and Romulus entered the tactical command room before the messenger could arrive, breaking the increasingly tense stalemate.

Under the Warp's influence, every communication device had already become something that only emitted a stream of blasphemous sounds. As a result, the regiment's command could only rely on the inefficient method of messengers delivering orders in person.

The Astra Militarum did not reject the use of information equipment. In conventional warfare, their level of integration even allowed them to conduct combined ground-air advances with other Imperial forces.

But with the ship's vox array destroyed and communication equipment invaded by scrapcode, such inefficiency was an unavoidable response to cruel reality.

Arthur's gaze swept across everyone present. He marveled at how complete the command structure was before finally settling on the silver-armored Sister who had just been arguing with the Commissar.

The emblem on her chest was a blooming Holy Rose.

Oh, she was from the Order of the Sacred Rose. No wonder she was so rational.

The Order of the Sacred Rose valued discipline and restraint over one's own desires.

Even the rage constantly emphasized by the Sisters of Battle was coolly and controlledly directed at the Emperor's enemies through volleys of Bolter fire and flame. Among the various Adepta Sororitas orders filled with madwomen, they were considered one of the easier types to communicate with.

"My lord."

Noticing the gaze of the Emperor's angel upon her, the Canoness revealed a shameful expression.

Certainly, she had every reason to advise the Commissar otherwise, but to the Imperium, no reason was an excuse to avoid battle. Sacrifice was never something to be feared.

"..."

Arthur lightly shook his head to indicate that it was fine, doing his best to remain silent.

His command of Low Gothic was still far from fluent.

And naturally, Arthur held no ill will toward the Sisters' caution. After all, these Ecclesiarchal forces that frequently dealt with the Inquisition generally understood the Warp better than Commissars trained by the Schola Progenium.

Arthur had also witnessed the misery on the front lines. In such an environment, it was not merely cultists and xenos who posed a threat. The flesh in the corridors, sharp protrusions, and even the warship itself could become weapons that killed you.

Sending a mortal squad to recklessly carve out a route would not let them survive for long, much less hold out until they reached the Geller Field Generator.

"My lord."

Colonel Kovek, who had been directing the battle and had not involved himself in the argument, spoke and saluted. His distinctive violet eyes revealed his origins.

"The 43rd Cadian Regiment, Broken Sword, salutes you!"

Arthur and Romulus returned the salute with fists to their chests.

Neither of them put on the airs of an angel. After all, only a few hours ago, both had merely been ordinary humans of the M3 era.

Their arrival naturally dissolved the disagreement within the command room.

Every argument from before had been based on the Angels not having arrived. Now that the Angels were here, every proposal they had made earlier would be overturned.

Even the morale issue everyone had been worrying about no longer needed consideration. Astartes merely standing there was more useful than a Commissar shouting on the front line ten thousand times.

Everyone's eyes gathered upon the two Angels. It was the gaze of people who had felt powerless in the face of their circumstances and had finally found someone to rely on. It was as if, in their eyes, the Astartes would surely lead them to victory for the Emperor.

That was the weight carried by the Astartes in the hearts of the Imperium's people.

Arthur exchanged a look with Romulus beside him, and both felt the pressure in the other's eyes.

Their lives were completely different from before. Now, when facing danger, they were the tallest ones present—the ones who had to hold up the sky.

"My apologies, my lord."

The Commissar apologized to the Angels.

"Thanks to the Emperor's guidance, I did not make an incorrect decision."

Arthur silently stepped aside. He still had only a vague understanding of the situation, and Romulus was clearly more suited to dealing with these soldiers.

"No apology is necessary, Commissar. I spent too much time searching for my comrade, thereby wasting the preparations you made to slay the Emperor's enemies."

Romulus nodded gently. His voice was solemn and serious, easing the tension of those present somewhat.

Then he extended a hand, his metal-clad fingers smoothing the wrinkles in the map. He waited for the gaze behind him to sweep across the carefully planned route map as paths appeared one after another in the projection within his helmet.

"Hm?"

The accompanying Tech-Priest looked at the projection device covered by the map, surprise appearing in his eyes beneath his goggles.

The Machine Spirit infected by scrapcode seemed to be showing signs of recovery.

The tactical plans discussed by the command center entered his mind and swiftly formed the optimal arrangement. The image projected within his helmet immediately converged into the best route.

"Colonel Kovek, can the command post's Auspex still be used?"

Romulus rose after what had seemed to mortals like only three seconds of pause.

The Colonel gripped the Chainsword in his hand in a reverse hold and took up the Auspex hanging at his waist.

"It can operate."

He gave an affirmative answer.

"That means the Emperor is watching over us."

Romulus withdrew his gaze from the information being transmitted by the Auspex. He did not miss this opportunity to raise morale and addressed everyone present.

"The Space Marines will act as the vanguard, launching a rapid assault to draw enemies from the surrounding areas toward our position. The Sisters of Battle and Astra Militarum fire teams will be responsible for clearing enemies and establishing defensive positions."

After his concise explanation, Romulus looked around at everyone.

"Now, please advance with us. My comrade and I will charge at the forefront and carve open a path to victory for you."

There was no lengthy pre-battle speech. Though he had only just stepped onto a real battlefield, Romulus had deeply understood the spirit of war through his past education. He knew that action was the best example.

This magnificent warrior wearing a golden laurel crown rose first after confirming the mission objective and took up his Heavy Bolter from beside him.

Click—

The Bolter was loaded.

"For the Emperor!"

Standing tall among them, the Commissar solemnly spoke the slogan forever on the lips of the Imperium's people.

"For the Emperor!"

The mobile forces assigned to the assault had long since assembled before the final attack. They gripped their weapons and answered angrily, their hearts burning with rage toward the enemy.

They had already sworn to the Emperor that today, they would slaughter every one of these heretical dogs who dared profane humanity's glory.

Failure?

Arthur swept his gaze across the soldiers brimming with fighting spirit.

The warriors did not look glorious. The horrific intensity of the war meant that even these soldiers preserved as an assault force could not avoid being stained with blood. Their armor seams were packed with grime, while blood had spread across their dark underlayers.

But he could clearly feel how different these soldiers were from those he had seen when first entering the camp. It was as though, in this brief span of time, the crushing pressure that had constantly surrounded them had vanished.

Under the dim lights, only their sharp eyes and the Aquilas upon their breastplates still shone brilliantly.

Their confusion was gone. Only courage remained.

Even Arthur, who had only just encountered this, could not help but marvel at the sight.

Then he turned and was the first to enter the passage that had previously been sealed off. He moved forward along a corridor once covered in exquisite patterns, statues, and portraits, but now filled only with blasphemous heretical symbols and masses of fused flesh.

Leman's Ear and the auditory systems within his helmet picked up faint sounds from the passage. The sounds were hurried and chaotic, accompanied by scattered footsteps, sketching one distinct outline after another in the darkness.

Slash!

A blade struck, and a corpse fell to the ground.

It was a statue parasitized by a Demon, filled inside with pulverized flesh.

Rustling sounds came from behind him. Enemies drawn by the sudden disturbance were already swarming toward them.

Arthur ignored them.

Lasgun fire and Bolter rounds shot past from behind him. The twisted heretics rushing forward were eliminated by the mortals at the same pace their triggers were pulled.

Facing those special individuals blessed by Chaos, those immune to gunfire, Arthur murmured softly.

"Victory above all!"