The machine spirit of Macragge's Honour detected the Iron Blood. The two Gloriana-class Battleships faced each other from afar, with hundreds upon thousands of warships between them.
Guilliman's expression was grim. Iron Warriors warships surrounded the planet in defensive formations. Had the Crimson Tide Chapter already been wiped out? Then Lady Euten...
An indescribable rage spread through Guilliman's heart.
"Contact the planetary garrison on all channels. Find out whether anyone survived." The Primarch's mind raced. His keen eyes caught every flickering piece of data in the control room, and countless streams of information formed a map of the enemy's system-wide defenses in his mind.
They were still on the offensive.
Guilliman reached that conclusion from the deployment of the enemy warships. The Iron Warriors were still wary of the planet.
Then...
The Imperial forces' communications filled with cries of, "The spirit of Taran shines upon us!" "The Sons of Dorn are the strongest Astartes! The Iron Warriors are nothing but cowards hiding inside metal!" "Come down here, cowards! Fight us face-to-face!"
Guilliman let out a long breath. At his command, a thousand ships surged forward, launching a furious assault on the enemy's defensive line.
The lord of the Thirteenth Legion excelled at concentrating superior forces for a lethal offensive, or creating local engagements where his troops outnumbered the enemy. Now, the Imperial forces held the advantage-a tremendous advantage.
The assembled force numbered over two thousand warships.
That was also why Guilliman had arrived a little late. Along the way, he had encountered a great host of the Sons of Dorn led by the Executioners, as well as a naval fleet sent as reinforcements from Segmentum Pacificus.
The first transmission the Sons of Dorn received reported Genestealers running loose aboard ships. Combined with the earlier unpleasant encounter between the Phalanx