93rd Black Crusade (20, The True Heretic)

Roboute Guilliman stared out the porthole.

A massive, living warship was swaggering in front of him, and Roboute Guilliman couldn't tolerate it, even though the thing itself might not have any consciousness. He stared coldly at the ship and its companions, taking in everything from the deformed, bulging stern to the wildly flailing tentacles at the bottom.

"Fire," he said.

Without any equipment to assist him, his voice swept across every crew member on the bridge, like the tide washing over sand. His orders began to be carried out, relayed down the chain of command, and heard by one loyalist after another.

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes, feeling the vibrations of the deck beneath his feet and experiencing the breath of the Macragge's Honour, his mind gradually sinking into it.

A minute later, an indescribably dazzling Radiance illuminated his face.

Amidst the sailors' reports and cheers, he slowly opened his eyes and saw a giant ship writhing and twisting in a sea of fire.

Its thick armor shell had been completely pierced, and its tough, earth-like muscles had been utterly destroyed by the devastating firepower of the Gloriana-class Battleship's warship, turning into nothingness.

The other cruisers sailing with it also met the same fate; in just one salvo, six Tyranids cruisers were shot down.

This is perhaps the only advantage of fighting swarms: you don't need to calibrate targets or painstakingly aim—just fire indiscriminately, unleash your anger and violence, and you can achieve considerable results.

The light continued to flash, but Roboute Guilliman's face showed no joy. This salvo seemed to have yielded significant results, but compared to the sheer number of the Zerg fleet, it was still a drop in the ocean. Moreover, the Zerg had its own ways of making up for these losses.

Soon, during the brief period when the artillery position was being reloaded, Roboute Guilliman saw through the observation window a scene that would break any ordinary person.

More Tyranids cruisers and smaller frigates swarmed in, using their crimson tentacles to engulf the fragments and flesh of the dead ships into their bodies.

Their chitinous carapaces proliferate and thicken at a visible rate, and their pre-existing offensive organs begin to increase in number; some even begin to slowly swell.

Yes, this is the truth about fighting against the Zerg swarm.

They have no morale, because they have no concept of life and death. They don't care about losses, because any loss can be made up for. They have no intellect, and they feel no fear, because they are all manipulated by a single consciousness.

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes again, the furnace roared, and his consciousness sank into a sea of nothingness.

Here, everything and every concept becomes incredibly abstract; ships become flat and shimmering, like sequins adorning the neckline of a courtly garment.

His consciousness rose from one of the glittering pieces, hovered, and roared, reaching the top of all the ships, and he was not the first to arrive there.

Roboute Guilliman saw countless hungry eyes.

It is not a single entity, but an indescribable thing composed of countless tiny points of light, spanning the battlefield like a huge dark cloud, obscuring this sea of stars into complete darkness.

It possessed no malice whatsoever; apart from hunger, it had no other desires and even seemed indifferent to Roboute Guilliman's arrival.

Those eyes merely glanced at him before turning away, continuing to focus intently on issuing orders, directing the fleet toward Sotha.

But why Sotha?

Roboute Guilliman had no answer for the time being, nor did he need one. He opened his eyes, and the abstract world vanished completely.

The reason the swarm was so difficult to resist, besides its sheer numbers, was another crucial factor: the shadow he had just glimpsed. The Hive Fleet possessed extremely powerful psionic energy and was highly aggressive.

It can turn steadfast mortal soldiers into mindless madmen, and it can turn well-trained Psyker into constantly screaming psionic bombs.

So, the question arises: why was the Combined Fleet unaffected?

The answer lies in a deck of the Macragge's Honour, the fiery furnace within Roboute Guilliman's chest, and a crimson magic circle of mysterious origin.

It was engraved in the engine room of all the ships in the Combined Fleet.

Roboute Guilliman stepped down from his command platform and walked to the leftmost porthole. From this angle, he could see the battlefield of the destroyer battle group, which was using its speed to hold off the vanguard of the Zerg fleet and was tearing each other apart.

Unlike the steady and slow battles of large warships, the battlefields of destroyers are incredibly bloody. Every second, their Void Shield face the severe challenges of swarms of live missiles and bio-plasma.

The only advantage of a destroyer battle group is its speed; the Zerg fleet moves incredibly slowly, and the closer it gets to its chosen "tablet," the slower it becomes.

But their counterattacks remain terrifying; some of them will approach careless destroyers using primitive jet propulsion and launch an attack.

Once it hits, it will embed itself deeply, spitting out pure-blooded Genestealers and various insects. For a small ship like a destroyer, this is tantamount to a death sentence.

Even the Astartes would struggle to fight off the swarm of insects in such a confined space, let alone the mortal crew. Therefore, the captains generally agreed that if things really came to this, it would be best to self-destruct the reactor.

This was a last resort, a desperate struggle born of desperation, and it can even be considered fortunate.

The Zerg swarm's living warships generally possess predatory tentacles. These giant, living creatures will open their gaping maws and devour any ship unfortunate enough to be caught by their tentacles, and they eat extremely quickly. By then, it's too late to self-destruct the reactor.

Roboute Guilliman calmly walked back to his command post and began reading the battle reports that had been sent back.

The combined fleet was enormous, consisting of four Ultramarines Battle Barge and as many as six battleships: two Conqueror-class, one Victory-class, and three Opalon-class.

They achieved remarkable results, but this was also thanks to the escort fleet and cruisers' pursuit and interception. Although the main force of the Zerglings ignored the Combined Fleet's offensive, they continued to send smaller, live ships, such as rams, to attempt counterattacks.

One collision might not matter, but what if it were ten, fifty, or five hundred?

Lord Macragge slowly fell into deep thought. He realized that the Zerg swarm's landing on Sotha was likely unstoppable.

They had done their best, whether from a tactical perspective or not, while the Hive Ship remained hidden.

Roboute Guilliman knew very well that a Hive Fleet would not have just one mothership, but there was still only one ship that was the truly important "central processing unit," and they only needed to find this ship to temporarily halt the Zerg swarm's offensive.

However, this was an incredibly difficult task in the face of the living ships that occupied almost the entire Sotha system. The Hive Ship was hidden among countless living ships, and this huge, disjointed mass of flesh possessed rapid reaction capabilities.

Any breach created by bombardment would be immediately filled, and the mothership itself was a giant biological factory, perpetually breeding more insects, including living ships.

Is it at an impasse?

Roboute Guilliman frowned. He naturally didn't want the swarm to get close to Sotha, but it was beyond his control. Their spores would soon burst into Sotha's atmosphere, dragging the people of that world into a long war of attrition.

At this moment, he was quite glad that he had left Belisarius Cawl on Sotha to conduct his research.

This Archmagos, still largely rejected by the Mechanicum world, was personally recognized as a "genius" by the Sigillites Malcador, despite a past disagreement with Roboute Guilliman nineteen centuries earlier.

He couldn't possibly keep a piece of the fragment without permission.

--etc.

Lord Macragge remained silent for a few seconds, and some of his questions were suddenly answered. At the same time, an indescribable anger and disbelief surged within him.

How dare he?!

Roboute Guilliman strode away from the command post and headed towards the communications array.

--

Karyl straightened up, squinting in the oncoming gale, surrounded by a torrent of steel surging from Belisarius Cawl's mechanical labyrinth.

He was moving at high speed, but not on his own; rather, he was "hitching a ride" by clinging to the side of the Archmagos of Mechanicum' massive body.

This might sound strange, but Cawl's modified body is essentially a terrifying war machine. He can move at high speeds and make precise evasive maneuvers, although there are some doubts about this.

For example, where Cawl such a high quality of energy to power such a body?

Karyl knew the answer, but he decided to turn a blind eye to the faint crimson light emanating from beneath Cawl's red robe.

Some things are better left unsaid for now. While Belisarius Cawl's actions can be described as utterly heretical,

At this moment, Karyl suddenly realized that he was surprisingly open-minded in some ways.

"I must tell you, sir, your plan—" Cawl roared through the wind, "Is utterly absurd!"

"Really? In which way?"

"How should I know?!" the Archmagos shouted. "You didn't tell me at all, not even a single word!"

Karyl smiled, while Cawl's mechanical body roared, yet he seemed as relaxed as if he were on a spring outing.

"Then what makes you say my plan is unreliable? Besides, Archmagos, isn't the adjective 'unreliable' a bit odd for someone of your status? I thought you would list various arguments to refute me one by one."

You're simply...

"Alright, alright." Karyl patted him reassuringly and spoke softly. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, or that I'm deliberately keeping you in suspense, it's just that there really aren't any specific details to describe this matter."

"I wasn't joking when I said I was going to kill it, Belisarius Cawl. The Hive Mind may not have a physical form, but it is still a spiritual entity, isn't it? Perhaps in the definition of the material world, it cannot be touched, but what if we go somewhere else?"

Amidst the roar of engines from who-knows-where, Cawl silently sped out of the defensive camp at the foot of Mount Pharos, moving unimpeded, with all security protocols already activated in advance.

He was the leader, and his army followed closely behind. If anyone could look down from the sky, they would see this terrifyingly large, iron-gray army engulfing the mountains and the land of Sotha.

In the nineteenth century, no one knew exactly how many Combat Servitor Belisarius Cawl manufactured or what "surprises" he prepared for the Swarm. However, two points may offer a glimpse into the whole picture.

First, Sotha is an Agri World, but also a world rich in minerals.

Secondly, its agriculture has reached its limit, yet there isn't a single official mine on the entire planet. However, metal is continuously transported from the depths of Mount Pharos and supplied to all parts of Sotha. So, who is mining the ore?

The forest scenery was torn into blurry patches of color by Belisarius Cawl's speed, and hot steam gradually emanated from beneath his red robe. Karyl looked down at him with amusement, awaiting his reply.

Cawl kept thinking until they were almost at the city before speaking.

"You want to enter the Warp and kill it?" the Mechascient asked seriously.

"No, that's not it," Karyl said. "But it's not impossible either."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"No, sir!" Cawl immediately shouted, trying to dissuade him. "Your first solution was already groundbreaking enough; I don't want to hear a second. I'm afraid my mental array will overload and crash. But how are you going to do this?"

"That's not difficult. According to the investigation report, the Hive Mind's will prefers to proceed step by step, is that right? Then I'll disrupt its pace. And I won't hold back unless it produces a bug through its spores that can rival me."

"... Forgive my frankness, sir, but I don't believe it's capable of doing that. This level of insect has never appeared in the records—"

Halfway through his Cawl suddenly realized something else.

"Yes." Karyl nodded to him.

"It has a very rational system for assessing resistance, a grading system or something similar. And I will become its greatest threat. I will force it to gather all its biomass and drown all the unborn insects in their swaddling clothes in order to give birth to a completely new species of insect."

"But—" Cawl struggled to keep up with him, the steam generated by the high-speed calculations was increasing rapidly. "—According to my calculations, it's impossible to do this; there's a limit to the amount of biomass a Hive Fleet can store."

As soon as he finished speaking, Cawl heard a soft chuckle. He turned his prosthetic eye and saw Karyl Lohars' expression in an almost eerie way.

It was a calm smile that was hard to describe.

"You're still viewing this plan rationally, Cawl, but you don't have to. Whether it succeeds or not is its business; I don't care. I just want to kill it, nothing more. And if it doesn't kill me, it will never be able to touch any other Sotha and make them bleed again."