of life
Vengeful Spirit, the primarch's office.
Yellowed oath papers stuffed the storage cabinets along the walls, with worn books standing between them.
On the old, faded surface of the massive wooden desk, operational orders awaiting signature were laid out one after another.
The Warmaster wore gleaming white armor, its edges trimmed in gold leaf, both pauldrons covered in brass engravings.
After listening to the report from his attendant, Maloghurst, he said, "You're saying the Raven Guard took Gate No. 42 with only two thousand nine hundred and forty dead."
"That is correct. The number is six thousand fewer than even the most optimistic estimate," said Maloghurst the Twisted.
Horus rose, walked to the window, drew back the velvet curtains, and looked out toward the reception room.
With his hands clasped behind his back, he asked, "Have you analyzed the reason?"
"Shadow of Order's 10th Battalion committed nearly all of its Terminators and broke through key defensive nodes in the garrison's line."
"That was completely beyond my expectations. I did not think Nimrod and Ramsey would send out their elite forces."
Horus did not blame the Twisted. He, too, had not expected Nimrod to give his full support to Corax, with whom he had no close relationship. His tone was certain as he said, "Shadow of Order has only four thousand men. Their casualties cannot be light."
"Yes. They lost one thousand and twenty-five killed, including two hundred and sixteen Terminators."
"Fewer than I calculated," Horus said with a sigh. "Shadow of Order's combat strength is higher than I anticipated."
"The 10th Battalion's Terminators are all powerful Psykers. They are as formidable as the First Company captain's Justaerin Terminators," Maloghurst said.
"Ezekyle would not agree," the Warmaster said with a laugh.
He turned around, his eyes bright.
"A warrior's unyielding