Feigned Surrender

The medical bay of the Iron Fist.

Apart from the white-painted exterior walls, this place is almost identical to the other compartments of the Steel Fist.

But this still cannot conceal the cold, metallic aura that permeates the space.

The array of Medical Thinker covering the entire wall of the room emitted a ticking sound.

The Apothecary from the Iron Hands are more like mechanics than doctors. They operate the instruments extending from the iron beds, complementing the Servitor who move back and forth in the room.

As Iron Hands Legion iron-armed bionic limbs that prefers steel over flesh and blood, even in the medical ward, the smell of engine oil is stronger than that of disinfectant.

Ulan Cicero, the Ultramarines Chapter from Expeditionary Fleet 413, was lying on one of the iron beds.

There should absolutely be no metal welding sounds in the medical field.

He looked up at the ceiling and thought to himself.

During the Great Crusade, the Imperium had a large number of Expeditionary Fleet expanding its territory, but it was clear that not every Expeditionary Fleet had a Primarch stationed there.

Expeditionary Fleet 413 was one of them. As a small Expeditionary Fleet, they were led by Astartes from the Ultramarines, supplemented by an envoy from the Thousand Sons Librarian, the Imperial Army, and the Titan Cult of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Most Expeditionary Fleet are like this, with a certain Legiones Astartes at their core, and then adding a few other legions as reinforcements, as well as military forces from various factions of the Imperium.

With such strength, taking down some small Xenos or Pocket Imperium would be no problem at all.

Until they encountered a tough opponent like the Gardinal Empire.

"Cicero, how are you?"

He heard the familiar call of Amar from the Thousand Sons Think Tank in his ear.

"You're still alive," Cicero smiled weakly at him, then looked at the two men following behind Amar. "... Who are these two?"

"Commander Kasgar Sherlock of the Sons of the Emperor, and Second Captain Aqua Duna."

"To be honest, if it weren't for these two insisting on the search and rescue, you would very likely have been reduced to ashes by Lady Philus's artillery fire."

"In that case, I must express my gratitude and pay tribute to you on behalf of the surviving Ultramarines— "

He struggled to get up, but the iron-gray "treatment" equipment attached to his body pinned him back to the bed.

"You know what? These guys with their machine brains even asked me if I wanted to replace my hands with mechanical ones like they do."

Cicero glanced at the Apothecary as he walked away and muttered under his breath.

"By the way, Commander Kasgar."

"So, what's the current state of our fleet after the inventory?"

"This is very bad."

Kasgar observed a moment of silence.

Nearly a thousand Astartes died in the battle, and a third of them could not even have their Gene-seed recovered.

The Imperial Army was almost entirely wiped out by the Nuclear Weapon attack, with only a fraction surviving. The few who did manage to survive contracted severe radiation sickness.

It can be said that after this one battle, the ground forces of the 413 Expeditionary Fleet were almost completely wiped out.

"Blame me"

Cicero, seemingly having anticipated this situation, closed his eyes in anguish.

"So what's the current situation of the war?"

"In the next battle, I will definitely avenge my brothers."

"It's over, Cicero."

Amar from the Thousand Sons Think Tank spoke with great optimism, "Soon we will be on this warship receiving the surrender ceremony from Lord Gadinar!"

After concluding their visit to Cicero, the Ultramarines Chapter, the three walked side by side through the lifeless passageways of the Iron Fist, heading towards the Forge Hall, Iron Hands's meeting room, to receive the surrender of the Gardinalians.

"Wait a minute, friend."

Kasgar called out to the Thousand Sons Librarian who were walking briskly ahead.

"Um?"

"Do you really believe the Gardinalians have come to surrender?"

"Huh? Yeah, what else?"

"Under Philus's absolute firepower, these frogs in a well will surely be terrified and will never dare to provoke the Primarch and the Imperium's authority again."

Amar was somewhat puzzled by Kasgar's question.

How should I put it? There's a kind of naive stupidity about it.

Kasgar had always thought that he, a soul from the past, was clear-headed and foolish enough.

I never expected there would be such a master here with Thousand Sons.

All I can say is that he looks a lot like his Gene-father.

"You met the ruler of Gardinal during the earlier negotiations, didn't you, Amar?"

Why did your negotiations break down, and what impression did they leave on you?

"I still remember that they were all very rational during the negotiations," Amar said, resting his chin on his hand as he fell into thought. "They seemed to be trying their best to avoid war."

"But in the end, war was still on the verge of breaking out, wasn't it? Even though you think they are all peace-loving."

"My friend, I don't know why either."

"Amar, don't you understand their double-dealing?"

Gardinal possesses well-preserved industrial facilities from the Dark Age of Technology, which the Imperium covets.

Therefore, during the negotiations, the delegation represented by Amar tried to remain cautious in order to avoid the outbreak of war.

"But unfortunately, they interpreted your caution as weakness. From then on, they believed they had an opportunity to take advantage of you."

"So, is it my fault?"

Amar lowered his head with a sad expression.

"Of course not."

"To be precise, this battle was bound to happen."

"If power could be so easily relinquished, the High Lord of Gardinal would not have chosen to Stormcaller in the first place."

What truly ignites war is the arrogance and lust for power of those who have already benefited.

These two forces, along with all the Gardinalians, swept them toward destruction along with their madness.

And these were the very words Kasgar used to persuade Philus.

"Therefore, bombing civilian areas is actually meaningless."

For them, human lives have always been a bargaining chip used to exchange for power.

Killing these civilians will have no effect on the world.

"So, that's why Philus gave up on surface bombardment and accepted the enemy's surrender?"

"You're really something, Commander Kasgar. Perhaps your talents are also suited to being a scholar and an orator."

"If you are interested after the Great Crusade, you can come to Prospero, and I will personally introduce you."

Amar praised with a smile.

"When that time comes, you must come and taste the wines produced on my private Manor. I am confident that they can rival the fine wines of your Sons of the Emperor."

Alas, Prospero.

Next time, definitely.

"Although Philus has indeed stopped, the crisis is far from over."

The ceasefire announcement from the High Lord of Gardinal is being broadcast on all planets in the galaxy, and the Gardinalians all over the galaxy have chosen to cease fire with a sigh of relief upon receiving the news.

After all, not many people are willing to confront a fully mechanized legion like Iron Hands head-on.

Both inside and outside the galaxy, numerous actions symbolizing submission are taking place simultaneously.

Peace will soon come to Gardinal.

Almost everyone is hoping for this.

But Kasgar doesn't think so.

"Just as they wouldn't really negotiate with you before, they probably won't really come to surrender this time either."

As Kasgar spoke, he gently patted Amar's massive shoulder armor.

"Go back and put on your Power Armour, get ready for battle, brother."

The industrial-style metal corridor came to an end at this moment.

[Forge Between] Outside.

Countless Iron Hands Space Marine waited outside the doors of the massive conference hall at the bow of the Steel Fist.

As the face of the Iron Hands, their main purpose in being positioned at the front was to show these overconfident Gardinalians just how terrifying the existence they were fighting was.

There were three people who came to represent Gardinal in the negotiations.

Leading the way was a frail old man, hunched over and aged, his face marked with spots and wrinkles, suggesting he had lived far longer than he should have.

As the High Lord of Gardinal, he represents the entire Gardinal Empire.

Following behind him was a middle-aged man who had undergone extensive biological modifications. He was also rather thin, and there were tubes with biomass flowing through them inserted into the back of his head and various parts of his body.

There was also a young attendant whose appearance was unremarkable.

A strange combination.

The three of them passed through the outer armed guard composed of thousands of Iron Hands, feeling the cold, murderous aura emanating from the Iron Hands, as if they were machines.

The Gardinalians also value military parades.

They would line up their land-based machinery, tanks, and elite soldiers in the parade, to be reviewed by the High Lord, who was the ruler of Gardinal.

However, such a well-organized and massive army of superheroes was something they had never even dreamed of.

Moreover, hundreds of cobalt blue giants stood behind the ranks, who appeared to be the very opponents they had encountered in their first battle.

Immediately following them was a group of giants clad in exquisite silk robes and purple-gold armor.

The Purple-Gold and Blue Giants seemed more human than mechanical compared to the previous iron-gray steel giants.

But it is still War Machines.

This was the first impression the Astartes left on the Gardinalians.

Efficient, powerful, and ruthless.

As they ventured deeper into the gate, a giant of iron gray stood before them, facing a massive, Black Iron Carved Gate.

"Gabriel Santo, the Company Commander of the Iron Hands."

He took off his helmet and introduced himself.

This was also the first time they had seen the giant's face—his appearance was as uneven as an asteroid, and his right hand, which was wrapped around his helmet, seemed to have been completely replaced by a bionic machine.

With a piercing gaze sweeping over the three of them, Santo continued, "Next, I will act as your guard and lead you to the Primarch's Forge Between."

As he spoke, he reached out and stopped the young servant.

Santo remembered Kasgar's earlier advice.

The Company Commander seemed to have heard from Aqua that the commander, the Sons of the Emperor, possessed powerful Prophecy.

They could even tell him the details of what was going to happen next, down to the smallest detail.

But Santo remained somewhat skeptical.

"You shall remain outside; your entourage is forbidden from entering."

Santo stopped his servants.

Upon seeing this, the two diplomats from Gardinal were taken aback, seemingly not expecting this move either.

Medusa's Gorgon, Philus Manus, sits high on the Iron Throne.

She waited there to hear the surrender proposal from the Gardinalians.

At this moment, two guards wearing state-of-the-art Terminator Armour stood beside him, protecting him.

Originally, she did not intend to give the Gardinalians another chance.

You shouldn't show them kindness.

Kindness is often seen as weakness.

But in order to demonstrate her governing and diplomatic abilities to Terra's War Council, and also on the advice of Kasgar, Philus Manus showed them a rare display of kindness.

However, Kasgar also warned that these people wouldn't be so well-behaved.

"If you insist, you and Amar can stay."

Philus responded casually to Kasgar's warning.

Assassin?

So what if he's an assassin?

She is very confident in herself.

As one of the Emperor's offspring, she never believed that she was inferior to others in any way.

If the Gardinalians are truly so confident that they can harm the Primarch through assassination, Primarch are simply being foolish.

Let this entire planet perish along with their folly.

Thump, thump.

The doors to the Forge Between opened, and two emissaries from Gardinal slowly stepped into the massive steel palace made of countless metals.

Waiting for them in the hall, besides Primarch Philus and his two Terminator Bodyguard, was the Crimson Sorcerer, Amar, from the Thousand Sons Librarian, who had been negotiating with the Gardinalians.

And a silent, Purple-Gold Giant.

The Gardinalians did not know his origins or why he was there.

But it must be said that his Crimson Helmet against his purple-gold armor was indeed very eye-catching.

"High Lord Siderakon," the old man introduced himself, bowing slightly.

"Sorcerer, I know your Psychic Power." Amar was particularly wary of the other middle-aged man. "I'll be watching you, my friend. Don't even think about using your sorcery here."

Upon boarding the Iron Fist, they all underwent extremely rigorous security checks to ensure they would not harm their Primarch on the ship.

But regardless of whether they are armed or not, Psyker have a far more diverse range of attack methods than one might imagine.

Amar, as a member of the Thousand Sons Librarian, will keep a close eye on them.

The middle-aged man from Gardinal did not answer this question.

That's enough.

Philus impatiently stopped Amar's threat.

"I, Philus Manus, Legion Primarch, the Iron Hands, await your surrender."

"If it were not for the guarantee from the commander of my sister legion, your planets would have been completely burned, and your civilization would have ceased to exist."

One obscure High Gothic word after another came out of her mouth.

She awaited a response from the Gardinalians.

"No."

Gardinal High Lord's reply was also very concise.

The piston on his shoulder spun at high speed, and the firing chamber on his body opened fire.