Russ, You're Quite Capable

The Shadow of the Throne.

Nimrod watched as a tall figure with blond hair and a fur cloak walked into the office.

"Nimrod, you shouldn't be here. Yenni is a hunting ground for wolves."

"I am here on the Emperor's orders," Nimrod said indifferently. "Obviously, your wolf pack is too slow."

As Russ snorted, Nimrod's Communication Bead hummed in his ear.

Russ glanced at Sanchez, who wore the Russ Wolf Helm made for him by the Allfather craftsmen and had a sword with a blade forged from the Kraken Fang at his waist.

Once Nimrod's hand left the Communication Bead, he sneered.

"Jorin's hunt has begun; the wolf pack will eventually get their prey."

Nimrod leaned back on the Throne, a slight smile playing on his lips.

[Jorin, not bad.]

If the wolf pack hadn't participated in the "Duran Campaign," how would I have gotten hold of them?

If you can't find Duran, I don't mind telling you his location.

Although Nimrod knew that the Canis Helix of the 13th Great Company would mutate, he could not possibly force his way through.

Evidence can only be obtained from the Fashi; they will capture mutated Space Wolves and use them as a weapon of public opinion.

Russ scrutinized Nimrod, noticing his calm demeanor, and felt a surge of urge to punch him, while an ominous shadow flickered in his eyes.

He reached behind him and tore off the cloak made of fur from the Great Wolf of Death he had killed with his own hands.

"Here you go." Russ shoved the cloak into Sanchez's hands and turned to leave.

"A nice cloak, put it on." Nimrod's annoying voice rang out behind Russ.

At the same moment Russ left the Primarch's Palace, Jorin, on whom he had placed his hopes, launched a full-scale attack on Yenni Planet III.

A massive cylindrical space station orbiting a planet, with its gun emplacements filled with jamming weapons.

Together with the surrounding Fashi warships, they unleashed a barrage of beams of light at the dark gray warship.

The 13th Great Company of the "Space Wolves," supported by the 1st, 3rd, 8th, and 10th Companies, launched a ferocious offensive.

In order to clear the passage to Yeni III as quickly as possible, the Space Wolves warships launched an offensive that was far too fierce for them to handle.

One after another, dark gray warships disintegrated in the terrifying beams of light, their wreckage scattered in planetary orbit.

Four days later, Nidhoggur was finally able to enter orbit around the space station.

Wolf Lord Ogvi Ogvi Heimschluth launched a bloody boarding raid on a carbon steel fortress guarded by nine battalions of Scabin Warrior.

The Falcon also caught its prey, a Hunter-class Fashi warship.

As the floor shook, Captain Osega gave the order, "Activate the ramming array."

"Array activated!" Guard Commander Ingeld announced loudly.

Navigator Aileen's voice then rang out. "Entering the designated orbit."

Osega looked up from the tactical display and gazed at the observation window above.

The Hunter warship was right above them, its cannons spewing lasers that relentlessly bombarded the Falcon's shields.

A heavy hum came from the bottom of the ship, as the modified weapon, personally Supervision by Osega, was activated.

The two heavy, hammer-shaped impact claws are twenty meters apart and were modified using shock-absorbing materials from large ships destroyed by wolf packs.

The original boarding hatches between them have been converted into huge explosive devices, with the dam-shaped hatches covered with Melta explosives on both sides.

The hunter suddenly swooped down at a sharp angle, then turned to the left.

As the Falcon swooped down from the shadow of its prey, the warning lights on the bridge screamed incessantly.

"Position locked," Ingeld calmly reported, positioning the beacon diagonally below the Hunter warship. "Prepare for the assault."

At the moment of impact, the deck shook violently, static crackled, and the observation window instantly went dark.

The bulletproof glass-like window developed cracks, but luckily it didn't shatter.

The alarm blared sharply, and a series of explosions, like firecrackers, erupted from the top of the Falcon, raining debris into the cabin.

The engines Shriek desperately, and sharp fragments of plasma flew through the control room, tearing the Tech-Priest, mortal servants, and Servitor to shreds.

The moment the Melta Bomb detonated, the walls of the Hunter warship's compartments collapsed with a deafening roar.

The wolves roared as they charged into the blast zone, leaping nimbly between the shattered hull and deck.

As the alarm sounded, thirty Scabin soldiers emerged from behind the bulkhead.

They raised their double-barreled weapons and aimed at the wolf pack, their firing rate incredibly fast, especially compared to other, slower movements.

A dense barrage of bullets slammed into the front-row targets, causing the air to vibrate and creating a deafening explosion.

The Mark II Power Armor turned to dust, and a torrent of blood gushed from the Space Wolves's superhuman body.

Jorin swung his great axe with both hands and smashed it hard onto the Scabin soldiers.

"Hurry!" he roared, then sprinted forward.

After discovering that their best skill, melee combat, was most effective against the slow-moving Scabin Warrior, the Space Wolves significantly increased their clearing speed.

Six hours later, Jorin stood in front of a cylinder with a diameter of two meters and gave the order.

"The memory storing Duran's coordinates has been found; the Wolf Prime must decipher it himself."

The Space Wolves looked at each other in bewilderment. The Primarch had never been interested in those mechanical gadgets, yet now he was going to try to crack them himself.

Jorin slung the axe over his shoulder, the voice of the Wolf Priest Ulbander came through his Communicator.

"Harald..." Urdiban said hesitantly, "Something's not right about him."

"Something's not right?" Jorin asked, puzzled.

Please come here immediately.

Jorin strode toward the runic deck, where Harald was a member of his Honor Guard.

He was not a member of the Brotherhood Russ, but rather passed the trials of Asaheim after the Allfather descended upon Fenris.

He was well-liked by the wolf pack, and they even considered promoting him to a higher position.

In every respect, he was a model for the Sons of Russ.

Jorin saw Harald, he immediately noticed that he was very different from how he had been not long ago.

He was panting heavily, covered in bile, with his tangled hair and elongated fangs exposed.

His right hand, with its sharp claws, gripped the head of the Fashi soldier tightly.

He bent over, his other hand braced on the floor, his wild, frenzied eyes darting around as he surveyed the surrounding pack of wolves, as if countless enemies had encircled him.

The Rune Priest Ulbander, clad in Obsidian plate armor and adorned with bleached animal skulls, pointed his Bolt Pistol at Harald, as if guarding against Fenris's beast.

His pearly gray hair was mixed with strands of black, and the traces of Fenris on his face had solidified into frost, making his hair extremely stiff.

"Wolf Lord, there's another one, Björn Hookblade, he died in battle."

Jorin looked at the mutated, corrupted Harald, and guessed what had happened from the wolf pack's wary and complex eyes. He asked in a low and sorrowful tone.

"He killed several of his brothers."

"Three," Ulbander pointed to the three Power Armor around him, "They were torn to shreds by Harald one by one."

The creature that was once Harald suddenly began to stir; the mutated pollution lengthened his face, his nostrils flared, and he sniffed around like a wolf.

"Harald," Jorin roared, "Don't move!"

Harald stood still, growling softly, his dark yellow saliva dripping onto the ground.

Jorin shoved Ulbander aside and yelled at Harald, "You can defeat it! You've defeated it before!"

This wasn't the first time Jorin had witnessed Canis Helix's bestial transformation, but this was the first time he had seen it degenerate to the point of being almost wolf-like.

Harald disgusted him, and saddened him at the same time.

Harald hunched over, lowering his body, and as his armor swayed, the legion insignia rolled off.

He bared his fangs, suddenly straightened up, stood on his hind legs, and howled to the sky.

With the click of Bolter chambered, Harald charged toward his Wolf Lord, his face Distortion with madness.

He raised his claws and fired his Bolter, blasting bloody holes into his body, but he did not slow down.

Jorin looked into Harald's eyes, but saw only the Affliction of an animal.

"Forgive me." He drew his Bolter, pulled the trigger, and blew Harald's head off, ending his Affliction.

"Find the reasons for their downfall."

"We should tell the Wolf Prime," Ulbander thought.

"No, not until the cause is found," Jorin around at the Honor Guard, "That's my order."

Russ of the Hrafnkel got what he wanted two days later.

He gazed at the Logis-Engine Machine, which was being reinstalled on its brass stand in the Wolf's Den, and addressed the red-robed priests around him.

"I will find the passage to Duran with you."

Silent binary signals surged within the Wolf's Den:

"The Wolf King is actually going to work with us to crack the code."

"Can the Wolf King understand the technology of the Fashi?"

"Begin." In the suffocating heat emanating from the brazier, Russ's rugged face glowed with a warm, rosy light.

The Tech-Priest soon discovered that the Wolf King understood everything with astonishing speed.

It was as if an inexhaustible energy was constantly gushing from his body, providing inexhaustible fuel for his every move.

Six sidereal days later, Russ, his hair disheveled, burst into laughter.

"I haven't had a drink in days, hurry up and bring it all up."

As Russ drank the first barrel of Fenrisian Mead, Nimrod unearthed some secrets of the Warp Spider Tribe from Slau Da's mind. Upon returning to the real world, the Communication Bead hummed.

"My lord, the Space Wolves' warships have set sail."

[Hmm? Faster than my offspring.]

Even if they were distracted by studying the various technologies of the Fashi, it was unlikely.

Nimrod's gaze deepened, and a sudden inspiration flashed through his mind.

Russ's learning ability was exceptional, quite unlike his rugged appearance; he learned High Gothic at a speed that even Horus admired.

[Could it be that he was involved in the cracking?]

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but admire it.

[Russ, you're quite capable.]

As he pondered, a thought struck him, and he returned to the "Nation of Disorder."

Upon arriving at the Third Layer Space, he picked up the newly charged Dice of Prophecy, and Duran's information flashed through his mind.

Duran, the capital of the Fashi.

A highly industrialized planet, orbited by a massive ring-shaped orbital station and numerous smaller orbital stations.

Its surface is bright red, like blood, interwoven with steel and iron, and mixed with jagged rocks.

...]

Duran's information flashed through Nimrod's mind, and he silently recited it to himself.

[Yenni's star map leading to Duran.]

...]

After silently reciting it eleven times, Nimrod reached out and threw the Dice of Prophecy in his hand.

After the triangular cone tumbled several times in the air, a holographic image appeared before his eyes.