For the Commander's Glory!!!

The communications officer repeated the order: "Lances, Macro Cannons, ready!!!"

The ships acknowledged.

The Mother of Tears swung its bow around, aiming its main guns at Slaughterhouse Three below.

The other warships adjusted their positions. More than a dozen vessels formed an arc in orbit, every gun trained downward.

The Lance arrays charged.

The Macro Cannons loaded, shells sliding into their breeches.

The Emperor's Greater Daemon reached its sharp claws toward the planet's Greenskin-held surface.

"Fire—!!!"

Boom—!!!!

Countless brilliant white beams shot from the warships' Lances, piercing the atmosphere in an instant and plunging straight to the surface.

The Macro Cannons followed, hurling shells toward the ground with blue fire trailing behind them.

Beams struck the gun towers.

Shells slammed into sheet-metal fortresses.

The metal melted instantly. Fortresses shattered, fragments flew, and fireballs burst across the ground.

Explosions spread from the outskirts of the mine to its entrance, then from the entrance to the rubble heaps where the Greenskins had gathered.

The Greenskins' surface defenses crumbled as though a giant hand had descended from the sky and crushed them.

On the bridge, Phoros watched coldly.

Up you all go.

Some shells fell into pits where the Greenskin Orks stored explosives, overturning their makeshift ammunition stacks.

The entire stockpile detonated.

The chain reaction collapsed a whole stretch of tunnel. Shards of metal and chunks of ore flew into the air, then clattered back to the ground.

Several gray-green mushroom clouds rose from the mine, billowing upward.

Shock waves swept across the rubble heaps and remaining defenses, toppling the last gun towers one after another.

Countless patrols and boar riders were thrown off their feet, beasts and all. Shells struck ramshackle tanks directly, reducing them to scrap.

The bombardment plowed through the Greenskins' entire network of surface defenses.

Every fortification along the