124's Bad Taste

124. Bad Taste

"What a pity Old Morty was still on the way."

Hades raised a hand and made a meaningless gesture of shading his eyes to look into the distance. The pitch-black hollow of his face turned toward the far reaches, frost creeping over the silvery metal around it. Behind him, the searing light of the star swept across his armor, outlining his figure in a blinding glare.

The Fleet Group's previous blessing had allowed him to adapt to facing the void. With sufficient physical strength, he could expose himself directly to space and move freely.

The ships that had arrived faster than light had not revealed themselves. This fleet, modest in number, was being directed entirely by The Emperor's will—and judging from their posture, The Emperor could hardly wait to give the Eldar a good thrashing.

Like thorns, the Eldar fleet had pierced Imperium territory. Owing to the nature of their vessels, these Fleet Groups, which preferred plunder, had expanded the territory under their control to an unimaginable extent in a short time.

On the star map, the seductive purple of Slaanesh's Eldar had already seeped into the Ysarniad Sector. The Eldar did not tend to occupy territory directly—they were more like raiding horsemen in the sea of stars, wantonly preying upon the Imperium's departing fleets.

But this time... the Imperium's heavy cavalry had already laid an ambush along their hunting route.

Judging by the shape of the front line, the Eldar were highly likely to attack a grain-supply and refugee convoy jointly departing from Polando and Pastoral Song. Castellan, ahead of those two agricultural worlds, had long since fallen.

The greedy Eldar of Slaanesh would never let such a juicy prize slip away.

Hades remained silent. He floated before the star, occasionally letting himself drift upside down