Years of war experience and martial training had gradually taught Ventanus the rhythm of battle. The immensely strong Word Bearer could not control his own power with perfect precision, and after several exchanges, he exposed an opening. Ventanus drove his sword into the abdomen of his power armor.
The disruption field vaporized the enemy's flesh and organs. Ventanus could feel the man's muscles convulsing wildly, resisting the foreign object invading his body.
The power sword's disruption field flickered continuously. Its repeated clashes with the chainsword had left it unstable, and at the critical moment, it became lodged in the enemy's bones.
The hairs on Ventanus's body stood on end. He decisively released his sword. The Word Bearer struggled to his feet, roaring and shrieking as he swung his frenzied chainsword, trying to take down the formidable Ultramarines captain with him.
His adjutant tried to provide support, only to be hurled aside by the enemy and sent crashing into the ruins.
Blood gushed from the Word Bearer's wound in great torrents. Even an Astartes's extraordinary clotting ability had failed. Seizing the moment, Ventanus lunged forward and pinned his opponent beneath his weight while forcing the enemy's chainsword into the ground, grinding it down severely.
His iron fist hammered the helmet again and again. By the third blow, the Word Bearer's helmet had caved in. The fourth and fifth strikes crushed his neck guard, shattering the lenses and exposing the bloodied mess of his eyes beneath.
Yet even so, he did not fall. This Word Bearer possessed extraordinary courage and martial prowess. Ventanus might once have heard of his fame, but now they were merely mortal enemies, both driven mad with slaughter.
But now the Ecclesiarchy troops and Iron Hands closed in. Bolters and plasma weapons thundered, blasting the unbelievably tenacious Word Bearer veteran to pieces. Ventanus could not have completely defeated him in close combat alone.
But this was war, not a contest of arms.
The Ultramarines' strength was rapidly failing. Their bodies were damaged; bruised muscles and shattered bones accumulated without cease, and they had little time to recover.
Ventanus had no choice but to call for his battle-brothers to retreat. The Word Bearers continued to pour in without end, silent and grim, their malevolent eyes fixed upon them.
Even Ultramarines would be driven to their limits by such relentless waves of battle.
The growing volume of fire caused terrible casualties. Several Ultramarines were too exhausted to evade incoming bolter shells. Their armor shattered, blood streamed from their wounds, and whether they lived or died was unknown.
"I've received a new signal from other Ultramarines, my lord!" shouted Aruk, commander of the Ecclesiarchy troops.
Ventanus did not dare lower his guard. He had to confirm that these reinforcements were Ultramarines, not some despicable Word Bearer deception.
"Ask them the number of ornate Aeldari. Report to me immediately!"
"Twelve! Their answer is twelve!" Aruk shouted.
"The correct number is thirteen, but they truly are reinforcements." Ventanus panted heavily. His internal organs had taken a considerable impact. "Send them the coordinates. Quickly!"
The Word Bearers' assault forced the Ultramarines to fall back again and again. After repelling two waves of attacks, the approaching third wave would decide the battle. Ventanus knew their soldiers were nearing their limits. No matter how resolute their will, once their bodies gave out, defeat would be inevitable.
"Come quickly, battle-brothers. There isn't much time left. I've had enough!"
The Ultramarines, who had always relied on their numbers, were now trapped in a desperate encirclement. They could not hold out much longer.
The Word Bearers' attack came again. Their labored breathing and footsteps drifted through the thick fog, heaping ever greater psychological pressure upon the loyalists. Their numbers seemed endless.
The enemy artillery had intensified!
Ventanus noticed the increasingly fierce mortar rounds, rockets, and micro-missiles. They hammered the ancient high walls, leaving more and more craters, and some had even begun falling into the rear camp, threatening the sheltering civilians.
His superhuman hearing was now overwhelmed by the battlefield's roar. The noise of artillery drowned out the details that truly mattered. More and more jetpack howls came from the flanks as Word Bearer Space Marines used their jump packs to leap across the battlefield and tear apart the Ultramarines' defensive positions.
The Ultramarines cursed, but charged forward without hesitation, preventing the Word Bearers from massacring the mortal auxilia.
This was a brutal war of attrition. There were no brilliant tactics to turn the tide, no miracles of one man facing a hundred—only chainsword against chainsword, bolter against bolter, slaughter of flesh and blood.
The weapons of war created by the Emperor were doing everything in their power to kill one another, bringing death to each other.
The Word Bearers' heavy vehicles finally arrived from the rear. A Fellblade super-heavy tank, like a massive beast crouching upon the ground, emerged from the fog. Great numbers of mortal soldiers clustered around it, only scattering like frightened birds once its fire-control system locked onto the Ultramarines' position.
Even Space Marines found it difficult to contend with such a steel monstrosity weighing hundreds of tons. It should have been opposed by a vehicle of equal class, but the Ultramarines had no vehicle capable of facing it.
Before a super-heavy tank's firepower, even fortified positions appeared exceptionally fragile. Ventanus had no choice but to drive back two advancing Word Bearers as he tried to open the distance.
The enemy's power axes carried tremendous force. Though such heavy melee weapons were restricted in cramped terrain, their armor-breaking capability was also unmatched.
His close friend Seraton rushed over to support him. Using a battle shield that had been severely worn down, its proud Ultramarines insignia completely erased, he blocked a power axe. The two fought in perfect coordination; without exchanging a word, they held back the Word Bearers' encirclement and waited for an opportunity to strike back.
After several exchanges, Seraton's weakness was caught by the enemy. A power axe struck his shoulder plate, its flickering disruption field tearing through the protection of his power armor and inflicting severe damage on his shoulder and arm.
Seraton tried to recover and pull away, but under the pressure of the enemy's power axe, he was forced to fall sideways. That was exactly what the enemy wanted. The power axe came down again after gathering momentum, its savage force driving the blade into his breastplate and stopping only at the black carapace beneath.
Blood sprayed in great torrents. Ventanus fought desperately to kill his opponent. Anger and reason existed together in the captain's mind as he drove his longsword through the Word Bearer wielding the power axe, then twisted it and utterly pulverized his brain, killing him instantly.
Seraton knelt on one knee. His bleeding had stopped, but that was all. The moment he exerted himself again, the wound would split open. Such injuries required treatment by an Apothecary and days of recovery to heal.
But now, they did not even have a few hours.
"I'll hold them back. You take the rest and retreat. Guilliman's sons will never yield here—For the Emperor and our gene-father!"
This Ultramarine had already accepted death in his heart. Ventanus said nothing. His own condition had also fallen to its lowest point. A laser had pierced the muscles of his right thigh, causing extensive necrosis. One arm was already fractured, while the tiny fractures in his fingers were too numerous to count.
A Space Marine's metabolism was outrageously high. The intense expenditure of energy had left him feverish. His fat was burning as every reserve of energy tried to mend his broken body while continuing to sustain this war with no end in sight.
Thirst clouded Ventanus's thoughts. Unbidden, images of Macragge's gleaming waterfalls, its beautiful lakes, and that damned water rose in his mind.
He watched the Fellblade's movements. Why had it stopped firing?
The Word Bearers' Fellblade roared, belching black smoke. Its tracks heedlessly crushed several cultists who had strayed too close, using their flesh and blood to lubricate the treads amid their screams. Its main turret rapidly turned and elevated, aiming into the fog.
Who was it targeting? Why was it turning?
The Fellblade fired. Violent air shockwaves from its muzzle tore through the dense fog, and the shell's trajectory was visible to the naked eye, yet there seemed to be no sound of impact.
The distinct hum of electromagnetic weaponry began to roar. A dazzling beam of energy tore through the fog and struck the Fellblade's turret with irresistible force. The three-hundred-ton monster lurched upward in an instant, pushed several steps aside by the recoil.
"They're here!" Ventanus concealed himself behind cover. Listening to the sudden weapon noise, he immediately identified their allegiance.
Though they had not met and no signal had been exchanged, he was utterly certain: reinforcements from other Ultramarines had arrived.
The struck armor plates of the Fellblade shattered and flew apart. Half its turret was completely annihilated, while its enormous cannon barrel became fragments that tore through its crew. Like a beast with its fangs ripped out, the Fellblade still tried to engage its engines and fight back.
But a second energy beam came. It did not strike the Fellblade directly, yet it still plowed a vast molten trench several meters away. Soil and rock melted instantly, radiating a blazing crimson heat.
More than twenty Word Bearer cultists died in the flames and heat. Even four Word Bearer Space Marines perished beneath that devastating strike. They screamed as they tried to flee, but with the impact of the third shot, the Fellblade exploded completely.
Along with its stored ammunition, the Fellblade began exploding from within. The fierce blast wave not only tore apart its wreckage, but also buried all the surrounding Word Bearers.
And the hunters who had killed the Fellblade emerged from the fog: two Shadowsword tanks, clad in cobalt-blue armor and bearing the glorious insignia unique to the Ultramarines, came to a halt.
In addition, the low rumble of Land Raiders arrived. Behind them came three Whirlwind missile launchers, along with the Ultramarines rushing in as reinforcements.
They fired without pause. Bikes and attack craft carried these warriors, allowing them to clear the enemy forces from the area with ruthless efficiency.
The Machine Spirits of the vehicles roared. Together with the Ultramarines, they unleashed their fury upon the filthy Word Bearers Legion.
At that moment, offense and defense reversed!
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