When that thing appeared, Ferrus Manus was descending toward Krieg's surface in a specially customized drop pod of his own.
He had arrived truly quickly—so quickly that it had somewhat exceeded Shefa's expectations. When the colonel learned of it, he was unusually taken aback. But Ferrus was that kind of man. He never lied, especially when it came to war, his calling.
He would not exaggerate to his allies to stir their courage and raise morale, because the support of Ferrus Manus and the Iron Hands was the finest stimulant there was. Nor could he be bothered to hurl battle cries at his enemies before or during combat. Why waste words on the dead or ashes?
Yes, one could call that arrogance, but Ferrus Manus did not see it that way. He considered it practicality, nothing more.
So, when that thing appeared, Ferrus Manus kicked open the drop pod.
His temples throbbed fiercely. Those who had never experienced it could not imagine the feeling, but it was nothing to him. He had endured far more terrible agony.
Gripping Forgebreaker, he leapt from the drop pod, ignoring the alarms ringing in his ears and the inquiries from Yutun Hess, chieftain of the Gesaka Clan. He simply fell straight toward the ground from an altitude of 4,700 meters.
The additional functions of the Medusan Carapace quickly took effect, slowing his descent with a green light that was decidedly beyond human technology, and ultimately setting him down where he intended to land—the center of a city gradually being consumed by war.
Only then did he speak to Yutun Hess and the Gesaka warriors, who had remained silent in the communications channel as they waited for him.
"I have an old matter to settle. You are not to follow me," he said calmly. "Proceed