The Wolf Brothers were exceptionally patient hunters.
The utterly impatient White Scars pups deserved to be singled out for criticism. They had been racing across the planet's seas for dozens of hours. Even the great fish below were exhausted, yet they still would not stop.
Had William not held them back, they probably would have sent the Wind and Cloud-class Battleship on a low-altitude assault, without even knowing whether it could pull up again.
Continuous Lance bombardments sent the surface temperature soaring. The Leviathan beasts found the water deeply uncomfortable. Low water pressure and attacks from Imperial warships left them furious but helpless.
Gradually, some Leviathans swam down into the depths. The enemies above were too overwhelming, and they chose to avoid the onslaught.
The Leviathan Sea Daemons with offspring, however, grew even more frenzied. They dived and leaped again and again, trying to fly higher. They could not retreat. Their young could not dive deep enough to escape the attacks' maximum reach, so they had to drive the enemy away.
The submarine floated quietly. Shock waves frequently rolled through the surrounding water, pushing it away and carrying the scent of blood farther as it drifted with the currents.
"A Leviathan Juvenile is approaching."
"Enter silent running."
One young beast finally could not resist and swam upward, following the scent. Before reaching adulthood, it needed enormous amounts of food. It should have been staying in the food-rich upper ocean anyway.
"You from the Adeptus Mechanicus-isn't it time to release the bait?"
"Based on our current relative positions, the probability of the target taking the bait is 91%, 92%, 93%..."
"Then release it."
A large chunk of flesh was thrown out of the hull, wrapped around a Stasis Bomb.
Haemonculus technology was not particularly reliable in our hands, so we had