Skarbrand, is that you?

"Short Man" is a rather discriminatory and derogatory term, but just as there are no wrong nicknames, only wrong names, the nickname "Short Man" is indeed very fitting for this group of galactic miners.

This even led to a variety of jokes about short people. For example, the classic line "Life is short" refers to the Xenos 'Ogres lament after capturing Space Dwarf.

But the eldest brother didn't laugh at the Second Brother. It wasn't just dwarves who had nicknames; other races did too. For example, humans called Aeldari" Bean Sprouts," dwarves "Short Men," Ork"Orks."

The Aeldari also call humans "monkeys," Space Marine are called "Giant Ape," Dwarves are "Artificer Spirit," and as for the Primarch, he is undoubtedly the Ape God.

The reason for this phenomenon is that nicknames are easier to remember than real names. They are a type of stereotype. After all, you might make a mistake if you try to verify something based on a stereotype, but the accuracy rate is definitely higher.

In reality, the Great Crusade wasn't as insane as later generations imagined. Unless communication was impossible and the Xenos were confirmed to be harmful to humanity, the Empire's initial strategy was primarily based on negotiation.

Just like the Felids who are now part of the empire, this Abhumans race Genetic Modification from the Dark Age of Technology, is quite popular and is an excellent scout. They are even present in the Solar Auxilia.

The dwarves, a larger Abhumans race, have been confirmed to be a branch of humanity, evolving gradually from former Mining Fleet.

But the short-haired elders looked down on their poor relatives, the Imperials, believing the Empire to be too cruel and foolish, especially those Red-robed little men who plotted against them.

Moreover, the Empire couldn't refute anything, since the Space Dwarf, who inherited a large amount of the Dark Age of Technology Legacy, were more legitimate than the Empire, both in terms of bloodline and technological possession.

Even so, the Empire did not engage in a large-scale conflict with the Space Dwarf like the Randan Empire. After all, the Dwarves' base of operations was in the Dead Zones around the Galactic Core Center, where the extreme environment was so harsh that even the Empire shook its head. The Serenity that was even slightly closer to the galaxy gave birth to the subspecies of Ogryn Apes due to their high density.

Additionally, Olympia is relatively close to the Space Dwarf, which may explain why Perturabo appears more robust than the other Primarchs.

Logically speaking, these Space Dwarf who love digging and treasure hunting should have nothing to do with Thousand Sons and shouldn't be fighting each other.

But Thousand Sons and his group were incredibly lucky. They managed to steal one of the dwarfs' Ancestral Core!

This thing is essentially a Super AI, but in the hearts of the Space Dwarf, it is comparable to their Clan Elder, and even an ancestor.

Whenever a clan member dies, they infuse the deceased's thoughts into the body, using it as Ancestral Totem to guide future generations.

Moreover, the Ancestral Core is crucial to the Clan Survival, containing a wealth of technology from the Dark Age of Technology.

Along with various lost STC Template, it remains the core of the Woven Network, similar to the Primarch of a legion.

When the prospecting team returned from their mining trip, they exclaimed, "Good heavens! You damned bastards dug up our ancestral graves! And you're even saying it's some kind of Abominable Intelligence! We'll just lift the coffin lids and take a look; we promise we won't damage your ancestral graves!"

This was intolerable! Upon learning of this, the clan leader immediately added these damned bastards to his Book of Grudges, and then engaged in a fierce battle with the Thousand Sons Legion.

Perhaps due to their unbridled habits, or perhaps due to the accidental ingestion of inferior protein, Magnus's legion was unable to end the battle immediately, instead becoming embroiled in a helpless War of Attrition.

Dwarves are naturally highly resistant to Psychic Power, and having inherited a large amount of Federation's legacy, their technology is more advanced than the Empire's. Even without Space Marine Canned Soldiers, they have Iron Kin, a Little Iron Cans, whose firepower density completely surpasses that of the Imperial forces.

Even more abstractly, due to the height difference, the internal passageways of the dwarf ships are too low; for a short man with an average height of 1.2 meters, the highest passageway is only 3 meters.

Even slightly larger heavy firepower couldn't get in; even the Terminator had to crouch and duck to get through.

This would undoubtedly be a disaster for Thousand Sons, whose size was approaching 3 meters after her second growth spurt. But letting the Auxilia in would be like sending them to their deaths; she had become stuck in two ways.

"Ahriman, send me a message to Terra, and have that old man Malcador send me reinforcements. Remember, they need to be short, steel warriors. Also, don't call me via Psychic Power phone; use Star-whisper Transmission."

"But Father, wouldn't it be faster for me to directly make a Psionic Transmission call with my abilities?"

Upon hearing this, Magnus immediately gave his eldest son a good slap and, while rubbing his wasteland punk hairstyle, launched into a tirade:

"Making phone calls, making phone calls, all you ever do is make phone calls! If I hear you making phone calls again for no reason, I'm going to slap you. I don't know where you picked up this weird habit from. What if you accidentally blow something up while making the call?"

Get up and do 30,000 Forbidden Squats!

When Malcador received the message, it was already a week later. Since the Emperor was not at home and had gone out to play, the Arch-Magos had no choice but to summon Mordred, Koz, and even Dorn, who had been hiding in the Webway playing in the dust.

When the three Primarchs saw the battle report, they were speechless at its abstract content. But then they thought about it and realized that it was indeed possible that Thousand Sons had done this, after all, they had a history of such actions.

During a joint operation between Dark Angels and Thousand Sons, he actually abandoned his allies to go and Battlefield Archaeology, which nearly drove Zhuang Sen crazy.

I was thinking of just throwing Exterminatus and blowing this thing up.

The behavior of the Adeptus Mechanicus' red-robed scoundrels goes without saying; grave robbing is their specialty, which made the three of them look at Mordred, who shared the same hobby.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? What kind of looks are those? Let me tell you, this is slander! We Atlas No Secrets; this is something we picked up."

Leaving aside Atlas's Morality issues, the problem is that the Iron Warriors simply can't be mobilized; they're engaged in a fierce battle with the Hrud alongside the Word Bearers and can't spare any time.

Thinking about this, Dorn, who had been staring at Mordred and wondering if Mordred had stolen his Soul Spear, Dorn realized that everyone else was looking at him.

"Why are you all looking at me? We, the Imperial Fists, aren't made of steel! We're on average five centimeters taller than them!"

Before long, some of the Imperial Fists within the Sol Sector began to assemble, boarding Atlas's fast ship. Mordred sent Tom, Dorn sent Sigismund.

Before their departure, Mordred specially allocated a batch of the latest Mark III Power Armour so that these Sons of Dorn, who could become Iron Warriors with just a change of Paint Scheme, could wear it.

This new Power Armour, which sacrifices flexibility for enhanced frontal armor and has a more rounded appearance, is primarily designed for boarding maneuvers and is well-suited for unprotected combat in confined terrain.

If its combat effectiveness is good, Atlas will mass-produce this special armor, making it serve as a tactical weapon to kill Assault Troopers in squads.

As for the development of other new types of armor, Atlas is also carrying out such research. However, there are already too many Crusade Armour in stock, so there is no need to replace them. In addition, there are still some technical difficulties that have not been overcome.

Gazing at the two legions already heading towards the battlefield, Malcador inadvertently glanced at the gate in front of the Imperial Palace, especially taking a few extra looks at the tall man acting as a ticket seller.

The Arch-Magos didn't say much, but instead handed Mordred a list containing the names of every Thunder Warriors of Holy Terra.

Let's give them a peaceful ending!

"I know without you saying it. By the way, where did that Yellow Skins go? I clearly remember he came back before me, so why can't I find him?"

"My Lord has more important things to do."

If it were any other Primarch, Malcador wouldn't even bother to explain, but since it was Mordred, whom he knew well, he said a few more words:

"My Lord is trying to steal a key. He originally planned to take you with him, but things have changed. You've found a sucker."

Just like fishing, too much bait can be counterproductive, so His Majesty only took Horus and Sanguinius with him, and it's probably over by now."

Mordred vaguely remembered that Old Man Huang had told him before that he wanted to steal the fire, so it was clear that his disappearance was for that purpose.

If Malcador mentioned it, Mordred would have almost forgotten that he had a sucker—no, a business partner—and immediately slipped back to his own Abomination, intending to put his Child Psychology to good use.

Due to its overly complex composition, even Mordred himself didn't know what it was, just like the Atlas Flagship, the Abomination Exemplar, it was a true Chimera.

But there are advantages to Chimera's Chimera. As we all know, fusion is the current top-tier solution, and even Digimon emphasizes Fusion Evolution.

With a flash of Fel Energy, Mordred's vision gradually tore apart. When he Opened Eyes, he was already on the Chaos Star Mardon, transformed once again into the red-cloaked Khorne. Then he saw an extremely vivid scene.

A long queue had formed in front of the Chaos Beacon, with all sorts of bizarre Daemon Slaves coming and going. At the far end of the line of sight, Vashtorr was directing Daemon to dismantle a spaceship to obtain precious resources that could be used in the Physical World.

It even multitasked, creating another clone that became the HR, selecting suitable Daemon for Atlas. Once a suitable type was found, it was immediately packed and ready for Atlas to summon and use.

Vashtorr was so eager to advance that he dreamed of becoming a god. Now that he had finally found a collaborator, he was undoubtedly more enthusiastic than anyone else.

In contrast, Mordred, also a legion commander, seemed so lazy that it made him feel a little embarrassed.

But Mordred soon no longer needed to feel embarrassed, because he saw a familiar face, and the person opposite him recognized him at a glance.

"Skarbrand? Is that you?"

"No, I am Angrath."