The Death of Estupinan

The twin-linked lasguns on either side of every mortar battery opened fire simultaneously; the sixteen beams of light transformed into mere threads in the mind of Nimrod, yet he moved among them like a dancer upon a web.

With a slight tilt of his body, he evaded several beams that would have otherwise struck him.

A sudden dash allowed him to bypass a round of saturating volley fire.

"Fire! Give me everything you've got, damn it!"

The commander of the Hive Spire guard, clad in a bright red uniform, shouted at the top of his lungs.

Only by doing so could he overcome the terror in his heart and stop himself from thinking that a god had descended to punish him for his sins.

Within the fortifications, ten thousand weapons of various types were trained upon the giant's silhouette.

Nimrod took a deep breath, drawing the acrid smoke into his lungs along with the air.

In an instant, his lungs completed hundreds of expansions and contractions; the inhaled air was spiraled, accelerated, rotated, and compressed, transforming into the purest form of ultrasonic waves.

As these ultrasonic waves passed through the Primarch's superhuman organs, vocal cords, and throat, they were not only unattenuated when expelled from his mouth but were even slightly amplified.

"ROAR!"

The howl drowned out even the second volley of mortar fire for a fleeting moment.

The front-line defenders within the fortifications clutched their heads in agony as the inhuman roar echoed in their minds, and they promptly collapsed, unconscious.

The defenders in the rear also bled from their noses and mouths, their bodies swaying unsteadily.

Even inside the metal bunkers, the gunners operating the twin-linked lasguns saw stars, blood seeping from their ears as a piercing, high-pitched ringing haunted them.

Nimrod leaped forward, his body swaying slightly as he stabilized himself amidst the shockwaves of the explosions.

The smoke and the roaring noise did not affect his senses; he noticed another convoy approaching at high speed.

Nimrod immediately broke into a sprint, charging toward the nearest defensive turret.

With over twenty meters still to go, he lunged forward, legs pulled together, and kicked into the casting point where the mortar and the fortifications met.

Relying on the life-support systems of his Artificer Power Armor, Howard regained consciousness from the dizziness; as his vision cleared, he witnessed this scene of Shock.

He shuddered; if Nimrod were to strike him with a single punch, even the armor that the Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priests took such pride in—the gift of the Omnissiah—would not withstand such an impact.

Howard realized that the era of House Boleslaw was coming to an end, and he would become a hero of the new kingdom, reaping massive benefits in the new power shuffle and becoming the wise patriarch that House Finde would celebrate for generations.

Excited, he switched to the command channel and issued orders to the armed personnel of House Finde.

"Move out! Follow the previous battle plan and lock onto your respective targets."

"When you hear the order to fire, use your weapons to slaughter the scum of House Boleslaw!"

The commander in the red robe shouted and scolded, shooting five deserters with his las-pistol before he could barely maintain the morale of the defenders.

Just as the defensive line was crumbling, he discovered that the new patriarch of House Finde had arrived with his men to provide support.

"Count, thank you for your timely arrival. The King of Boleslaw will surely be satisfied with your performance during this crisis."

Howard scanned his men, seeing that they had already integrated into the defensive line according to the battle plan; the unsuspecting defenders welcomed their arrival.

He raised his left arm, and as his Heavy Stubber unleashed a hail of bullets, he issued the order over the comms channel: "Attack!"

Immediately, gunfire erupted and beams of light flashed.

Nimrod swung the mortar barrel, smashing two twin-linked lasguns while noticing the sudden turn of events.

He instantly locked onto Howard's position, recognizing his former temporary employer.

Nimrod immediately guessed the truth; he strode toward Howard, swinging the mortar barrel casually, smashing one defensive point after another until the metal plates crushed the defenders inside into pulp.

Howard looked at Nimrod; compared to the images he had seen, he felt a mountain-like pressure, finally understanding why the defenders in his peripheral vision were suffering total morale collapse and fleeing in all directions.

He immediately knelt on one knee and, following the Vostonian oath of allegiance, solemnly pledged his loyalty to Nimrod.

"I, Howard Finde, swear upon my honor and my bloodline."

According to the traditions of the Muskan people of Vostonia, he would have pledged his loyalty to the visiting King of Boleslaw at the banquet held by the Nightfall Troupe.

At this very moment, Howard had no lord to serve; having not yet violated his noble honor or oaths, he offered his loyalty to the true king.

"I offer my unconditional loyalty and obedience to Lord Nimrod, the new King of Tezwork."

"I shall fight for your glory and act according to your will!"

Nimrod stopped in front of Howard, his majestic voice resounding.

"I accept your allegiance."

The guards of House Finde joined the ranks, further boosting the morale of the gang members.

It was not just them; the noble lords of the upper hive also saw that a god had descended, and they were destined to win.

Nimrod led the charge into the Hive Spire, smashing through the gates and passing through the vestibule before encountering determined resistance.

He noticed that even though the mortals before him looked at him with eyes full of terror, they did not scatter or flee.

Nimrod knew that the Hive Spire was inhabited by nothing but the royal family and the vassal houses that had served them for generations, their loyalty far exceeding that of the feudal nobility.

[To break the rules with violence and establish a new order is destined to be accompanied by blood!]

As the thought surfaced in his mind, he immediately felt his spirit grow more vibrant.

He strode forward with the gait of a hunter, leaving a trail of crimson in his wake as he ascended the marble steps.

Alarms pierced the sky, echoing throughout the Hive Spire.

For the first time in thousands of years, Boleslaw faced an assault from an external enemy.

Nobles, accompanied by their private militias, swarmed into the corridors to repel the attack.

Nimrod climbed ever upward, his speed of movement equal to his speed of slaughter.

Compared to the defensive positions encountered earlier, the resistance here was far lighter.

Meanwhile, at the summit of the Hive Spire, the Armor Baron nervously fitted the armor onto King Boleslaw.

He had not worn this suit in decades, and squeezing his bloated body into it was a difficult task.

Beside him, the Minister of Diplomacy reported to the King with palpable tension.

"Sage Kaminski has replied; he is currently mobilizing the Skitarii and estimates it will take three hours and twenty-five minutes to arrive. He asks that you hold the Hive Spire."

"Damn it, tell him I can't even hold it for an hour!"

King Boleslaw watched the video screen as the Minister of Defense was crushed to death by the giant, and he roared in terror and rage.

A giant was climbing the spiraling marble staircase, moving with such extreme speed that a level of the Hive Spire fell with every blink of an eye.

The family elite were like paper before him, their corpses tumbling and falling in heaps.

Suddenly, the giant halted, stopping before a man dressed in fine robes.

King Boleslaw searched his memory before identifying him as Estupinian; he only remembered this distant relative of the family because he served as the Fifth Arbiter.

Though greedy, he was sensible; every month, every holiday, and every time he made a gain, he would offer up gifts.

He also possessed a bit of cunning, helping the King conceal matters that might have displeased the Tech-Priest.

No sooner had King Boleslaw thought of this competent lackey than he saw the giant hoist Estupinian up, a booming voice echoing forth.

"I must thank you; without you, I would not have reached the top of the Hive Spire so quickly."

Seeing Estupinian's neck snapped, King Boleslaw felt not a shred of pity, hating him only for his stupidity.

"Damn it, that pig—a man like that should only be courted, never made an enemy."

"If only I could recruit him, all of Vostonia would be mine."

"Damn it, why did you have to provoke him!"