The Horn of Counterattack

In Calth, the sun is poisonous, the air is poisonous, and the earth is scorched by radiation, a cycle that has continued for ten thousand years, endlessly. 💢😝 ♝🍪 Their power has transformed all living things that survive in Calth, even lifeless dust itself has become poisonous.

Today, this once-brilliant jewel of the Ultramar crown is merely a huge scar on the king's forehead, but the people who live on it remain resilient.

Before the surface of Calth became what it is today, its engineers designed a completely self-sufficient underground cave system for it.

During the early and middle stages of the Calth War, the system underwent severe testing, survived, and was further improved. The Calth began to cultivate underground creatures for their meat, grow ferns and mushrooms, and build a circulation system from underground rivers.

They didn't even lack minerals; for a full ten thousand years, countless generations never stopped digging downwards.

To this day, the Calth have developed another brilliant civilization underground, but very few outsiders have witnessed it.

Even Roboute Guilliman himself had not visited Calth for six centuries, and in his limited visits, he was unable to properly explore the underground city.

He slowly stood up from the comfortable guest sofa, his expression completely changed.

"One or two gunboats can only provide immediate relief; the Calth's problems ultimately need to be solved by the Calth themselves. Moreover, not every Thunderhawk or shuttle can break through the storm's blockade and successfully meet with us."

Three fortresses have already achieved success in this regard, and it is estimated that they will only need another third of a century to leave the surface of Calth again, travel to low Earth orbit, and explore the unmanned space station that has been dormant for thousands of years.

The ground weapon platform of Calth has been completely destroyed, leaving not even a trace. The orbital weapon platform is different. After multiple verifications by the Servants, they used data from seventeen centuries to prove that the orbital weapon platform still exists.

"I just have nothing to do, you don't need to be so hostile towards me."

From dedicated platforms for Astartes attacks to transport platforms for heavy vehicles and artillery, they cover almost everything. Now, no one tells the engineering teams what to do anymore; they can dig as many holes as they want.

"Those things will go crazy over this. They fear sunlight, yet deep in their genes, they retain some human instincts; they also dislike the night."

Do something beneficial for humanity.

This is perhaps inextricably linked to the current weapons factory in Calth.

"It needs to be robust enough to withstand storms in the sky. Its communication system must also be improved to resist signal interference from electromagnetic storms. We have already created design drawings for five prototypes, and now we only need raw materials to begin manufacturing."

"Can't we just ask the Macragge's Honour to send a few Thunderhawk to you?" Sevatar asked.

"Your statement is far too complimentary of us," Kargio replied with a wry smile. "So many people have tried for ten thousand years and still haven't succeeded. What's so admirable about that?"

They had no flagship and were a Chapter that rarely operated elsewhere, so their combat strength should theoretically be quite weak. However, based on the battle reports that Karyl had read, the Calth's Sons had no such problem.

Another Chapter Master, the Supreme Grand Master of the Blade of Judgement, couldn't help but sigh inside his helmet and utter the following complaint.

Kargio sighed, his gunmetal gray armor reflecting silent glimmers of light under the pale glow of the lamps.

Moreover, the storms enveloping this star system and the threats on its surface make normal travel to near-Earth orbit a luxury. Therefore, even within the Five Hundred Worlds, Calth has become a place no one wants to go.

Or perhaps, this is an inherent characteristic of human beings.

Karyl detected an irrepressible joy and anticipation in his voice, which made him look up at Jago Sevatarion, who was standing right beside him. The latter, sensing this, looked down at him as well, his glasses gleaming red.

"While this won't have a huge impact on us, the condition of the earth's surface would likely be much worse without the sun. Without daytime, darkness would perpetually shroud the land."

Sevatar smiled.

"That's right, Kargio." He approached the other man, extending his hand familiarly and affectionately, and put his arm around his shoulder again.

"The mission objective is to wreak havoc," Sevatar whispered into the comms. "No taboos, no specific tactical objectives; we just need to wreak havoc inside that fortress."

"Of course I've read it," said the Shadow Knights. "But I don't understand why you're asking these questions, esteemed, great Jago Sevatarion."

"Say something!"

"Stronger than me," Karyl said noncommittally. "But it still sounds like something out of Hive City."

As the Chapter Master of the Calth's Sons spoke, he shook his head helplessly, swallowing the unspoken twist of his mind, which was also reflected on his face.

"Seriously, brothers, is teasing each other all we do to pass the time? Or do you guys only feel comfortable when you provoke each other into the dueling cage?"

Not only that, it's even still running.

"Truly the Emperor miracle, the favor of Konrad Curze Curze! The man who loved tormenting his brothers in the dueling cage, fighting his way up to become the Supreme Grand Master, Sheher Cold Soul, has changed his ways!"

He wasn't wearing a helmet yet; his long white hair was neatly tied back, and his wild, fierce yet noble and gloomy face was filled with helplessness. He would occasionally glance at Karyl standing to the side.

The Calth even designed a special set of armor for their Auxilia to fight in the extreme environments on the ground, and they even made fifteen improved versions of the light gun.

Perhaps this is the essence of what was once a jewel in the crown: even if it was almost destroyed by war, it could still rise again, and even rise higher.

"Here we go again"

"He is the son of a prisoner, not the son of a gangster."

"Look, we have a total of 501 people. Such a large group will definitely add some unnecessary pressure for you. And we've never liked owing anyone anything, so how about we help you out with something?"

--

With his hands behind his back, Karyl stood among the five hundred Night Lords.

He looked inconspicuous, his figure completely obscured by the five hundred Astartes soldiers neatly dressed in Terminator Armour Astartes. Without close inspection, no one would likely notice that these five hundred men were actually positioned in a protective formation, firmly shielding him in the center.

Of course. He wasn't talking to Sevatar.

Although the Calth live underground, they naturally have ways to ascend.

"Oh, Lord Sheher has suddenly become a role model after the instructors returned!" Sevatar exclaimed as she looked at him.

"It has been taken by the enemy, so my brothers, you can freely unleash the violence deep within your genes."

The Great Khan turned his head away and stopped speaking. The Hunter took his place and joined the battle. His voice was low and soft, yet it reached Sevatar's ears perfectly.

But the Calth never gave up on saving themselves, never.

"By then, our fortress may face several times the pressure it has before. These savage tribes of mutants will relentlessly assault the defenses until they breach the fortress."

For millennia, the technologies of flight have stagnated, so weapons engineers have turned their talents to other areas, from enhanced versions of Phosphex flamethrowers to accelerated electromagnetic guns with calibers so large they must be mounted on heavy vehicles—the range is almost endless.

However, each data packet contains Calth's imprint, which is the lowest level of the operating logic. Even if the Cogitator responsible for sending the data can no longer recognize or process the data it sends, this imprint still remains.

"No offense, Lord Sevatar, but could you please be a little more considerate of your image?" the Crimson Claws Highlord asked expressionlessly.

"Everything has to be fast, understand? I love blitzkrieg."

"The sons of prisoners in the underground jails are probably more ruthless than the sons of gangsters," Sevatar said softly. "You've seen him on the battlefield; how many people could be more volatile than him back then?"

According to calculations, the Macragge's Honour will take at least two more months to reach Calth, and that's assuming no warning signals are received from other planets along the way. Just as Karyl said, they have plenty of time.

Waste.

However, the problem is that the ascent seems a bit slow. A full twenty-five minutes have passed since we stepped onto the lift platform, but the indicator on the platform has only progressed a third of the way.

They are quite adept at fighting multiple opponents in extreme environments, especially against Cultists or Daemon, often achieving unreasonable casualty ratios and surprisingly fond of bombarding the enemy with artillery fire before charging.

The Calth's Sons's paint scheme, like the land where they were born, possesses a unique, deathly quality. Looking at the entire Power Armour, only the deep blue left shoulder faintly reveals a trace of the Mother Group's style.

"You've persisted for ten thousand years without giving up. Isn't that admirable?" Sevatar retorted.

He chuckled lightly, his laughter filled with eagerness.

"These two fortresses are responsible for directly transporting raw materials for the trial and error of the shuttle to the third fortress. Due to the lack of minerals and problems with the manufacturing line, we can't even use the previous design and have to design or improve a new shuttle from scratch."

"Speaking of which, Kaul, have you read our history from our Legion days?"

Or, do something else.

The other six people in the room could all understand his unspoken message: "But all we're missing are the raw materials."

"The sun of Calth is declining. It has survived ten thousand years of poisoning, and no one knows how much longer it can hold on. Perhaps next year, or even the next second, it will go out."

Their Mechanicum remained adept at building massive engineering machines, so numerous shafts and tunnels were quietly excavated underground, then divided into spaces and fitted with various types of lifting platforms for different purposes.

The ground beneath their feet rumbled, cold air whistled upwards, and the light from emergency lights silently streamed down from the swaying steel pillars on either side, only to be swallowed up by the various colored armors.

"Instructor, will you be traveling with us once we get to the ground?"

"Why didn't you say this when you were smashing the enemy to pieces with the axe blade?" Sevatar retorted, staring at him. "And why are you staring at him when I'm the one talking to you?"

The most direct evidence is a data packet that Fortress 5 has been receiving continuously since its construction. The data within it is corrupted, consisting of junk code that cannot be decrypted or processed.

"I understand roughly," Sevatar said. "So what you need isn't just simple support; what you really need is to start over from the cradle. I admire you, Chapter Master Kargio, that you're going to repeat humanity's departure from Terra."

Server operators call it the Mark of Steadfastness.

"Whenever you have nothing to do, you do things that are hard for us to accept. Therefore, if I have misunderstood your intentions, I apologize. I am truly sorry, Lord Sevatar. I should have imagined you to be kinder."

However, the situation on the surface is still not optimistic. Fortresses No. 6 and No. 7 were breached eleven years ago and have lost contact.

They have been trying to launch a counterattack on the surface, and to this day, they have built thirteen fortified strongholds on the surface. Valuable scientific and technological knowledge about stars and space has been transported from underground and tested one by one in these fortresses.

"Ah, you've misunderstood me, Instructor. I had no choice. I was born in the Shantytown of Nostramo and grew up among gangs. I'm used to talking like this. Not to mention the teacher you found for me later, Xianni is a typical Terra gangster, isn't he?"

His question drew silent glances from the other four; in fact, everyone turned their gaze towards him without warning. The eyes of the five hundred Night Lords were quiet yet intense, fixed firmly on the man who didn't seem inclined to speak.

Karyl turned his head away and stopped answering him. So Sevatar changed his target and tormented someone else. He found Kaul Sahora, who was standing silently to the side, and asked him a question.

"You can rip their heads off along with their spines, or you can fall from the sky and chop them all to dust, I don't care. I only ask that you kill every enemy you can see, and then get back to our old business: cleanse the Chaos Corruption."

"How was it, Instructor?" he asked with a hint of a smile. "How was my speech?"

"."

The man covered his forehead, turned his head, and suddenly glared at Jago Sevatarion with a hint of annoyance before resuming his usual expressionless demeanor.

"I'll go alone," he said. "And use this opportunity to test your anti-submarine skills."