Near Olympia.
Clang!
As they emerged from the Warp, they clearly felt the ship lurch. The Warp seemed extremely unstable at the moment, as though a Warp storm could strike at any time.
Only after they flew into Olympia did Francis understand what true extravagance was.
Countless Iron Hands aircraft blotted out the sky like ravens, converging on their target from every direction.
The first wave of attacks was carried out by Lightning fighters. Flying at extremely low altitudes to evade enemy radar, they suddenly pulled up and unleashed dense volleys of missiles and laser beams.
Unlike the Iron Hands, the Iron Warriors placed greater emphasis on supporting ground forces.
Even as their bombers carried out bombing runs, they also deployed large numbers of mechanical infantry and combat robots. These mechanical warriors surged toward the enemy positions like a tide, engaging the Iron Hands warriors in fierce close combat.
Iron Hands and Iron Warriors aircraft wove together in the sky into a complex web of battle. The explosions of laser beams, missiles, and bombs rose and fell one after another, blending into a stirring symphony of war.
The battle on the ground was equally fierce. Mechanical infantry and combat robots moved through the smoke, while tank fire and infantry gunfire intertwined, forming a bloody yet magnificent scene.
But most importantly, where were the people?
Francis watched for quite a while without spotting them. He saw neither Perturabo, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors, nor Ferrus Manus, the Primarch of the Iron Hands.
"So what are those two doing here? Dragging their feet?"
Francis grabbed at his head with both hands. Compared to this, why did the previous battles feel like primitive men brawling?
When he turned his head, he saw the Soul Drinkers wearing envious expressions.
"Hey, hey, hey! What