The Word Bearers Have Arrived

"More than one traitor existed. The Warmaster had also betrayed your Emperor. He had already destroyed three loyalist Legions in the Isstvan system." Lox appeared in the projection as well, laying out the brutal facts.

"Horus... I understand."

Guilliman did not ask who this suddenly appearing mortal was. This was not the time to dwell on such matters.

Gunfire had already begun to echo near the Universal Museum. The roar of artillery was different from the sound of falling wreckage, and the primarch immediately realized danger had arrived.

"When this shameful betrayal is over, I will welcome you aboard my flagship."

The Word Bearers' fleet had finally emerged from the system's Mandeville Point. The first warship suddenly opened fire.

The battleship named False Emperor unleashed all its lance weapons against the fleet as it slowly reacted. It was followed by the Crown of Colchis, the Flame of Purity, and the Hand of Fate.

The sudden outbreak of void combat forced the communication to end. Ventanus continued relaying news of the Word Bearers' betrayal to every ship he could contact.

"Leave the battle in space to them. We'll deal with the enemies on the surface." Ventanus picked up his bolter and led the Ultramarines out of the underground shelter.

"We too are sons of vengeance—for Ferrus!"

Wayland and the other Iron Hands, long unable to restrain the fire of vengeance within them, roared as they charged out of the shelter.

Unlike their bedraggled state after the bitter fighting on Isstvan, these Iron Hands had received fresh supplies of equipment. Every one of them carried firepower that could only be called absurd.

Vehicle-grade plasma weapons, hundreds of miniature nuclear missiles carried by their power armor, and bolters with greater power, longer range, and even more explosive force.

Amid the ruins surrounding the Universal Museum, a large group of bizarre, frenzied mortal soldiers were indulging their bestial urges.

They paid no heed to the terrifying wreckage still falling from the sky. Cheering and laughing madly, they slaughtered those who had survived the disaster with rifles, pistols, blades, and even spears.

Rather than mortal soldiers, they were better described as crazed cultists. These madmen of the Seventeenth Legion howled as they drove spears into the abdomen of an armless Numenian soldier. Once he fell in agony, they swarmed over him, shrieking as they twisted their spears and blades to inflict even more pain.

They fired without pause, gunning down civilians before brutally finishing them with their blades, as though offering horrific sacrifices to fulfill some ritual.

Bang!

The crack of bolter fire rang out. Several cultists in the midst of the slaughter instantly burst apart, chunks of flesh scattering amid a rain of blood.

The Ultramarines had arrived. Ventanus led his men in precise executions of the enemy. Against bolters, these mortal auxiliaries were no different from paper; once struck, their bodies were utterly torn apart.

A cultist who looked like a leader held a ritual dagger as he cut open the throat of a wounded soldier. The man was an officer; only killing him personally would give the act meaning.

He did not even see the attackers before his underlings began exploding one after another. In the next instant, his own upper body burst apart. Only a severed hand, still clutching the ritual dagger he treasured, fell miserably to the ground.

"All enemies eliminated. Search for survivors."

Ventanus's helmet display showed that every red-marked target had been killed, while the green-marked targets still required rescue.

"Transport all survivors back to the Universal Museum. Medical equipment and supplies have already been teleported there remotely. The rest of you, continue with me toward the port."

Ventanus had only three things on his mind: destroy the enemy, save the wounded, and assemble the forces.

The spaceport overseer had mentioned that there was some ancient equipment at the port that could be used. But with the alternatives provided by Lox, those things were far less necessary now.

But the port had more than that. It held a large number of mortal engineers and workers, along with vast quantities of weapons and equipment awaiting loading.

The port's tower stood around Landing Platform Sixty. It was a natural shelter, so most of the port's survivors had gathered there to hide.

Fear and unease still lingered on every face. They did not know what had happened. It was as if the sky had suddenly fallen, orbital starships crashing down one after another onto the surface of Calth.

This shelter was not truly safe, because wreckage continued to fall from the sky. If even one piece landed here, everyone would be killed outright by the shockwave.

But it was better than nothing. The massive platform gave them an illusion of safety. They crowded together, clinging to one another in search of some unseen protection.

"Those are Space Marines! They've come!"

Some of the refugees suddenly spotted Ventanus and the others approaching. Dozens of Ultramarines made no attempt to conceal themselves as they appeared beside the survivors.

The survivors had countless questions. Some wailed, some pleaded. They wanted an answer: what exactly had happened on Calth?

Ventanus removed his helmet and hung it at his waist. He shouted, "War has come. There is no more time for explanations or waste. Everyone, withdraw in that direction. The Universal Museum has shelter for you."

The crowd quickly departed. Some supported one another, while others cared only for themselves and hurried away at a jog.

"My lord, if you wish to continue searching this area, we can offer assistance."

Several volunteers stepped forward. They had not chosen to leave. Ventanus did not refuse, merely selecting two of them.

The Space Marines entered the ruins with their mortal attendants and several volunteers. They reached the port's control tower, and the Space Marines spread out, entering each room to search for any fortunate survivors.

Standing in an intact corridor and looking outside, Ventanus saw vast stretches of facilities and cargo containers already engulfed in flames, black smoke rising into the sky. Falling wreckage streaked past like meteors, crashing into the ground with deafening impacts.

The once-bustling port now resembled hell.

Shouts rose from below. They came from the volunteers. Ventanus saw three squads of Space Marines in red armor advancing toward the tower.

The mortals did not know what was happening.

Ventanus did not hesitate. He swiftly raised his bolter and fired several shots from above, striking and destroying the heads of two Word Bearers.

Space Marines in power armor were far sturdier than mortals. A bolter round could only blast a large hole through them rather than blow apart their entire bodies. But such wounds were still fatal.

The Word Bearers reacted with equal speed. They did not know why the Ultramarines, who should have known nothing, had opened fire first, but clearly, they had learned the truth.

Bolters on both sides fired wildly. Walls and equipment were torn apart, and exploding metal and concrete were equally lethal. Flames and metallic storms flew everywhere.

The Ultramarines and Word Bearers exchanged fire at close range in the port.