Chapter 98
The two exchanged a smile, tacitly reaching a consensus.
The merchant fleet and the propaganda machine of the Ecclesiarchy were put into full operation.
Holographic projections played meticulously edited footage in every square of Terra: the wreckage of the Imperial Navy burned in the void, while Yuskinna's private fleet cruised majestically, its cannons gleaming with a menacing light.
"The Imperial Navy has failed the Emperor's expectations!" the priests of the Ecclesiarchy shouted in the streets. "But the merchant fleet and the Ecclesiarchy remain steadfast! Faith and trade are the future of humanity!"
The people desperately clung to this straw, even though it was already rotten.
These fooled people knelt before the portraits of Yuskinna and the Pope, as if they were the Emperor's representatives.
In the shadows, the high command of the Imperial Navy gritted their teeth.
They knew that this propaganda war was nothing more than a means for Yuskinna and Elikate to seize power.
But now, they don't even have the right to refute it.
The Imperial Navy is dead, killed in the battle against the Orks; they are no longer fit to participate in this power struggle.
The greens don't care about human infighting at all.
Anyway, who cares who it is, just go for it.
Deep within the Imperial Palace, the commander of the Adeptus Custodes silently observed all of this.
"The high lords are still fighting for power, while these mortals..." an Adeptus Custodes murmured, a hint of helplessness in his voice.
"They always are," the commander said slowly, "But the Emperor's will will not waver because of their foolishness."
He gripped his weapon tightly and looked toward the Golden Throne.
"Prepare for the final defense," he ordered. "No matter how much those politicians fight amongst themselves, we will still fulfill our duty."
The Emperor's body, now gradually decaying, sat regally on the Golden Throne.
A faint light appeared, as if he were waiting, waiting for something to arrive.
Unexpectedly, countless flying ships emerged from Terra.
Incited by Yuskinna and Elikate, the skies of Terra were ignited by another kind of madness.
Thousands of civilian aircraft, armed transport ships of merchant fleets, fanatical Ecclesiarchy pilgrimage ships, and even deceived remnants of the Astra Militarum formed a chaotic "holy war fleet."
Shouting the name of the Emperor, burning with blind faith, they launched a suicidal charge toward the Battle Moon hanging overhead.
"For the Emperor! For Holy Terra!"
Their voices echoed through the communication channels, filled with a fervent determination to die.
The green-skinned men were ecstatic.
"Hahaha! The shrimps have delivered themselves to our doorstep!" A war leader patted his belly and laughed heartily. It was unbelievable.
Chapter 67: You beast, what have you been cursed with? [3 updates]
Accompanied by human attacks.
Suddenly, countless cannon barrels cracked open on the surface of the Battle Moon, and crude but deadly artillery spewed out destructive torrents.
Those undefended civilian ships were helpless against such an attack.
Human ships exploded in the green energy beam, and burning debris rained down back onto Terra.
"A little more! A little more!" The Orks tech-savvy kids excitedly adjusted their gravity weapons, tearing the entire fleet apart like toys.
There were just too many people.
More than ten million people died as soon as the landed.
But a million fanatical warriors still managed to land and fight on the surface of the moon.
They stumbled and crawled out of the crash site, weapons in hand, shouting the Emperor's holy name, and charged toward the green-skinned steel fortress.
Surprisingly, the Orks did not immediately crush the invaders.
"Don't kill them all, kids!" roared an orc Orks clad in tattered power armor. "Let the shrimps run!"
The greenskins, as if watching a gladiatorial contest, surrounded the edge of the battlefield, emitting deafening laughter and cheers.
They deliberately slowed their advance, letting the human soldiers stumble and fall among the scrap metal and rusting machinery, enjoying their struggle.
"These little shrimps are quite good at jumping around!"
On the surface of Terra, Yuskinna and Elikate remained on the sidelines, observing the situation.
"They really charged up there..." Yuskinna said softly, a cold calculation flashing in her eyes.
"They will, and they should." Elikate smiled, his fingers tracing the scepter.
They didn't care about those who were sent to their deaths.
All they care about is whether this "holy war" can consolidate their authority.
These two High Lords longed for victory so that they could become the great saviors of mankind.
But this is ultimately fearlessness born of ignorance.
Even though the million-strong human army that landed managed to temporarily repel the attacking Orks lads thanks to their numerical superiority.
They even killed quite a few Orks.
But ultimately, those are just the Orks's unique ways of flirting.
It's just playing around with these people, nothing serious.
Once I've had my fill, crushing them will be a piece of cake.
The tech geeks suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, their rough, green fingers pounding furiously on the control panel.
A deafening metallic tearing sound came from the depths of the Battle Moon, and the entire artificial celestial body began to tremble violently.
"Let's give these shrimps a big one!" A fanged Orks engineer roared with laughter as he pulled down the control lever.
The Earth's crust began to Distortion and deform Battle Moon.
Huge metal plates bulged up with the screeching of gravity engines, their rusted armor plates writhing like living things.
The human soldiers watched in horror as the "ground" beneath their feet suddenly rose up, and countless people lost their footing and tumbled into the suddenly appearing cracks.
"Emperor protect us..." An Astra Militarum soldier had barely managed to utter half a prayer into his communicator when he was hurled into the air by a metal mountain that suddenly rose beneath his feet.
Two giant mountain ranges made of scrap iron and armor plates are forming.
Tens of thousands of tons of metal rubbed against each other, sparking dazzling sparks.
In the valleys between the mountains, an army of millions of humans appeared as insignificant as ants.
"Waaagh!!!" The orc Orks excitedly waved his power claws, "Crush them!"
The mountain range began to converge towards the center.
The first to be crushed were the vehicle wreckage; armored vehicles were easily flattened like tin cans.
Next came the human body—the sound of bones shattering mingled together, and flesh and blood sprayed into mist under the pressure of hundreds of thousands of tons.
Observers on Terra witnessed this scene in the final image transmission.
Yuskinna's lips trembled slightly, and the scepter in Elikate's hand clattered to the ground.
Their meticulously planned "holy war," their tens of millions of troops on which they placed their hopes, and the millions of troops still remaining on the Battle Moon, are now being crushed like garbage.
On the Battle Moon surface, the last resistance fighters fired in vain at the converging mountains.
The laser gun beam left no mark on the thick metal plate.
A fanatical follower of the Ecclesiarchy held up the sacred texts and chanted prayers at the top of his lungs until his voice and body disappeared into the crushing metal.
When the two mountain ranges finally merged, all that remained on the battlefield was a "canyon" made of flesh and metal.
Occasionally, fragments of limbs, not completely crushed, would dangle from the gaps, swaying gently as the Battle Moon.
Brutal, terrifying, bloody.
This is how a different race treats humans, no different from how they treat pigs.
"Waaagh!!"
They watched as all the humans were crushed to death.
The Orks erupted in a satisfied cheer.
Terra's skies remain shrouded in the shadow of the Battle Moon.
And those tens of millions of "jihadists" didn't even have their bodies returned to the homeland they swore to defend.
Holy Terra was plunged into utter despair and terror.
This was a three-day negotiation.
The greens actually sent an ambassador...
As the flesh and blood of the last human soldier dripped from the metal canyons of the Battle Moon, a deathly silence fell over Terra.
Inside the palace council chamber, the arguing among the high lords abruptly ceased as unbelievable news arrived from the orbital monitoring station.
"Three Orks landing craft are descending." The monitoring officer's voice trembled. "They've requested a diplomatic meeting."
Yuskinna's nails dug deeply into her palms.
Elikate's scepter struck the ground with an uneasy rhythm.
Amidst the astonished and uncertain gazes of the crowd, the most magnificent reception hall of the palace was urgently put into use, opening its doors to foreign races for the first time since the Horus Heresy.
As the three figures stepped into the hall, all the guards cocked their Boltgun.
But to everyone's surprise, the Orks at the front was wearing a purple robe sewn with gold thread, and his fangs were adorned with meticulously polished teeth.
His skin was a rare deep olive color, and his every move exuded an eerie elegance.
"Salute to the territory of the human god of war." He spoke in fluent High Gothic, "I am the negotiating ambassador of the Blood Axe Clan, and I am here on behalf of the Orks to negotiate. Ambassador Abdor, that is my name, you may address me as such."
The two Orks guards behind him were also wearing ceremonial armor. Although welding marks were still visible, they were indeed much neater than the average Orks boy.
The Orks ambassador took out a scroll made of some unknown material from his robes and slowly unfurled it amidst the horrified gazes of the crowd.
His yellow eyes swept over every human present. "We're giving the shrimp two choices."
"First, surrender immediately, unconditionally." The Orks ambassador bared his fangs. "Second... die here."
"Surrender or die, that's your only choice."
Chapter 68: Strike while the iron is hot [4 updates]
Faced with this aggressive green-skinned Orks ambassador.
In diplomatic situations, where they were most comfortable, these high lords couldn't even utter a single, fluent sentence.
Looking at the mocking eyes of the green-skinned Orks, the current predicament of the Human Imperium is once again on full display.
Terra's true forbidden zone.
At the heart of the Imperial Palace, various factions continue to vie for power.
The Aeldari sent their Eldar Harlequin Troupe, which broke through Lucifer Blacks's defenses, attempting to rush in and desecrate the Emperor.
Their movements were almost unreal, their dazzling battle suits drawing eerie arcs in the dimly lit palace.
The leader, wearing a mask with a crying and laughing face, wielded a double-edged sword that sliced through the armor of two guards, and a large number of Harlequins easily took their lives.
They charged toward the Eternal Gate.
Only Horus ever reached the Eternal Gate.
The implications of the Aeldari's actions are self-evident.
Taking advantage of humanity's weakened state, they wanted to kill them.