The Great Warlord

The Astartes' Bolters kept firing. Despite the distance, the Space Marines' marksmanship allowed them to stand atop the cliffs and precisely pick off the charging Orks.

Seemingly realizing that these enemies were different from those they had faced before, the Orks gradually withdrew. For the first time in dozens of days, the Arctic Military Base finally enjoyed some peace.

Beneath his Power Armour's faceplate, squad leader William's expression was frighteningly grim. Orderly advances and retreats were anything but normal for Orks. There was probably a Warlord-class Big Boss commanding them from behind the lines, and a particularly cunning one at that. William promptly reported his discovery to the Chapter Master. Finding a way to eliminate this Ork warlord was now the only way to resolve the war.

"Squad leader, Tristy, the fortress's commanding officer, would like to hold a military conference with the leaders of each squad to discuss our next strategic plan."

"Where's deputy squad leader Kshevich? You go."

"Understood, squad leader. I hope you're all still alive when I get back."

Evan really could not get used to the deputy squad leader's way of wishing them well. It sounded as though he were mourning the dead.

The squad leader gathered everyone together for the first lesson Evan had learned in recruit training: a prompt post-battle review and analysis.

Sometimes, one simply had to marvel at life's unpredictability. Had the Storm Will Chapter arrived first, holding a fortress would have been routine for them. The Green Templars, arriving later, could have raced around to their hearts' content in Ork-held territory-no, conducted raids. With the two Chapters attacking from front and rear, supported by the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter's expertise in mechanized warfare, the Ork army would hardly have been a difficult opponent.

But asking these men, who spent every day living out their own version of Fast & Furious, to crouch behind rocks and hold their positions was not impossible. It was just uncomfortable. They itched all over.

"All right, let's hear what everyone has to say. Gajie, you've been at the highest point and had the clearest view. You first."

"Squad leader, I think sniping the Big Boss can effectively drive the Orks back, but it only treats the symptoms. New bosses will soon emerge among the scattered Orks, grow into Big Bosses, and launch another attack on us."

"Charles, what do you think?"

"I think we need to change our firepower allocation. At our current rate of consumption, lasting nine hours will be easy, but we still have to launch a strategic counteroffensive afterward. Our objective is to wipe out the Orks completely. Taking our supply situation into account, we should conserve ammunition."

On that subject, squad leader William wished he could go and steal the fortress's entire arsenal right then. A staunch believer in firepower above all, he was deeply worried to see that most of the fortress's artillery had fallen silent. He had even devised a contingency plan: bury the remaining shells on the battlefield, then have Gajie detonate them with precise sniper shots during the next Ork assault.

"I think we can prioritize cumbersome weapons, like grenades and mines. Keep some Melta Bombs for destroying enemy fortifications during our counteroffensive, and use up the other weapons that hinder our mobility as soon as possible during this phase."

Indeed, as Astartes who excelled at blitzkrieg and decapitation strikes, they knew what weapons their preferred tactics required. Holding a fortified position on the ground gave them an opportunity to expend large quantities of weapons that were too heavy or difficult to move quickly.

"I have an idea that could let us defend a longer stretch of the line," Evan said. The reason was simple: the three-by-three infantry formation was deeply ingrained in him. It was an essential tactic for holding a longer front with fewer men, one he simply could not afford not to know.

"Look, squad leader. The peak where Gajie is stationed has an extremely broad field of view. It covers our squad's entire battlefield, and Ork artillery can barely reach that height. Deploying only a single Lasgun there is a real waste. If we put a heavy Plasma Cannon and a long-range plasma cannon up there, we can wipe out the Big Bosses along with the Orks surrounding them, destroying each Big Boss's entire 'tribe' as a unit. The only Ork weapons that can threaten that height are missiles and flying Boyz. We can leave one Astartes with a Bolter there for air defense. That gives us an initial deployment of three Astartes on the summit."

The battle-brothers looked at Evan in surprise. It was a highly sound tactic that would effectively eliminate the Orks' fighting strength. In his very first battle with Third Squad, Evan had already displayed his distinctive talent.

Evan continued explaining his plan. "Look, there's an outcrop on the cliff to the right. From there, we can fire down to the foot of the wall. It's one of the few places the summit team can't cover. I suggest deploying an Astartes with powerful, high-volume firepower there." As he spoke, Evan looked toward a taciturn Astartes carrying a twin-linked Boltgun removed from a Dreadnought on his back.

Dreadnoughts were enormous war machines, often as large as five or six Astartes. Their pilots were powerful Astartes who had suffered irreparable bodily injuries. They would enter their Dreadnoughts permanently and become one with them until they died in battle.

Their injuries and connection to the Dreadnought inflicted extreme agony, which only slaughtering enemies could alleviate. Dreadnoughts were killing machines through and through, with a wide variety of equipment available: ranged weapons such as twin-linked Boltguns, heavy flamers, plasma guns, and grav weapons, as well as melee weapons such as Fear Spears, siege claws, siege drills, and all manner of chain weapons.

The equipment removed from the Dreadnought was enormous. The warrior had not even carried it on his back during the airdrop, instead placing it across two empty seats. Clearly, however, a fixed-position weapon that could not be carried during a charge was well suited to that firing position.

"There's an opening to the left of that outcrop. We can enlarge it and station Gajie inside, with passages connecting several firing ports. To sum it up: dig deep and fight hard."

"Ten meters above those two firing positions, we can establish an observation post or supplementary firing position to cover any gaps. That will form a triangular fire position. As for the other two men, I think they should go down onto the wall. They can use grenades to eliminate enemies, and I also noticed a few Orks climbing onto the wall earlier. The human defenders suffered heavy casualties. When it comes to close combat, Astartes are better suited to handling Orks that make it onto the wall."

Even the experienced squad leader William had to admit that it was an excellent, workable plan.

"I agree with adopting Evan's plan."

"I agree too."

"Same here."

In the end, Gajie naturally took the sniper position, while Evan manned the observation post established above him. The taciturn warrior went straight to the cliff outcrop to set up his twin-linked Boltgun, and the deputy squad leader led two other veterans to take charge of the summit. Despite everyone's unsuccessful attempts to dissuade him, the squad leader took the third Primaris Space Marine down onto the wall, grandly declaring that he was "giving the recruit some close-combat practice."

Mistanbol patrolled the iron mine base. With a wet squelch, a Gretchin that failed to dodge in time was flattened beneath this Big Boss's foot.

The Ork warlord was in a foul mood-so foul that this was already the sixth Gretchin he had stepped on that morning.

The offensive, which had initially gone so smoothly, had become increasingly difficult because of those wretched space tin cans. At first, Mistanbol had used the iron mine's resources to build primitive weapons and armour, led his army in slaughtering vast numbers of human troops, and swiftly seized the agricultural district.

Of course, the main reason was that keeping tactical smoke suspended around the great impact crater for a month had left the Orks without food or photosynthesis to replenish their energy. They had grown so hungry that they had gnawed away all the turf.

After capturing the agricultural district, the Orks replenished their food supplies. Their armies then brimmed with fighting spirit, ready to attack the Hive World.

After just two probing attacks, the Ork warlord Mistanbol understood that this Hive City would not be easy to take. If another Hive City sent reinforcements, his army would be in an extremely difficult position. Thus, he went to pay homage to his gods, Gork and Mork.

That was right: the Orks had gods of their own. One was called Gork, and the other Mork. Mork was cunning but brutal, while Gork was brutal but cunning. For example, Mork would sneak up and club you, then give you a savage beating, while Gork would give you a savage beating and then club you again as you picked yourself up off the ground.

Powerful Waaaaaaaagh psychic energy surged into the sky. The next morning, the Ork warlord Mistanbol announced that he had received a revelation from Gork and Mork. While directing his massive army to attack the Hive City's defensive positions from the east, he sent smaller Orks through the sewage outlets in a surprise assault. The labyrinthine pipes and assorted barriers became meaningless before their overwhelming numbers.

Of course, barring any unexpected developments, the smaller Orks would have emerged from the sewage pipes into fierce artillery fire from the garrison stationed above the sewage treatment pools. The terrified hive council had ordered that every passage to the outside be held at all costs.

Unfortunately, as one might expect, something unexpected happened. A group of smaller Orks encountered a barrier mesh and could go no farther. They were trapped there for "a long time"-at least, it seemed long to Orks who wanted a fight every waking moment. Then a short Mekboy arrived at the mesh carrying a homemade waaaaaaaaaagh bomb. With all the Orks watching, he blasted the barrier to pieces. The enormous explosion not only blew away several Orks who had failed to brace themselves, but also cracked the pipe wall overhead.

In an instant, the Mekboy won the adoration of a great many Orks, and the waaaaaaagh energy field around him grew immensely powerful. Mekboy evolved~~ into a Mek Big Boss!

The now-enormous Ork successfully pushed aside the cracked steel plate overhead, his Waaaaaaaagh war cry shaking heaven and earth.

Could you imagine a war raging outside, shells and grenades flying everywhere, while a group of Underhive workers-the lowest of the low in the Hive City-worked seventeen-hour days, putting in overtime every day to manufacture weapons?

Could you imagine a few exhausted workers crouching in a corner to eat an instant lunch when the ground suddenly shook and the floor split open?

Could you imagine the terror those fellows felt when, just as they were about to check which boiler had exploded, a huge green head suddenly popped up beneath their backsides?

The Mek Big Boss immediately led the Ork Boyz out of the opening and swiftly swept away the surrounding enemies. With so many Orks worshipping him, the Mek Big Boss even gained a name of his own: Boomblasta. It was not particularly pleasant-sounding, but it suited his temperament perfectly. An Ork with a name was one in ten thousand. From then on, he was practically nobility.

By the time the human troops arrived, the entire factory was awash with blood. Soldiers armed with Lasguns cautiously searched their surroundings. The Orks had no patience for that. They pulled out their big guns and started blasting the human troops, producing an endless assortment of bizarre, ramshackle weapons.

What? Where had the weapons come from? What was this place? A weapons factory. Who was leading the Orks? A Mek Big Boss. Was he still a Mekboy who took forever to make a gun? Nope. After evolving into a Big Boss, he could churn out guns like nobody's business.

At that moment, Boomblasta was humming a tune as he assembled missiles by hand. Orks kept pouring out of the opening, howling and roaring.

Commanding the southern battlefield, the Ork warlord Mistanbol saw chaos erupt inside the Hive City. Although the eastern troops had not moved, portions of the defending forces on the southern, northern, and western sides had been redeployed toward the western Underhive. What was he waiting for? Southern assault force, bring out the big toys!

The cannons, armoured vehicles, and crude sheet-metal aircraft built from the iron mine's resources over all those days were unveiled at once. In no time, they smashed the defensive positions there to pieces.

Although the Hive City was protected by a Void Shield that redirected attacks into the Warp, heavy bombardment could easily overload it and shut it down. It also could not stop slow-moving weapons, such as the Orks' sheet-metal aircraft!

The Orks' sheet-metal aircraft passed through the Void Shield and quickly dropped large numbers of powerful, unstable, hand-built bombs onto the walls, along with masses of Gretchin. That was right, Gretchin. As long as they caused chaos on the walls, the Big Bosses could seize the opportunity to storm them.

Hive World Mikya had been invaded. Over the next few days of fighting, the human troops fell back to hold the high ground, while the Orks occupied the factories and began using the things inside to build more things. Then they kept fighting and kept building.

The Mek Big Boss Boomblasta was having the time of his life building things. He had already made seven or eight Killa Kans. Though these armoured machines, comparable to Space Marine Power Armour, looked like large iron cans with a few mechanical arms attached, they needed only a handful of Gretchin to operate them. With this equipment that worked because the Orks reckoned it would, they could unleash rockets to their hearts' content on the battlefield and swing terrifying oversized chainsaws.

However, under sustained protests from ordinary Ork Boyz, Boomblasta had begun constructing Deff Dreads with even more fearsome firepower. These were piloted by proper Orks rather than Gretchin. Still, he needed a Painboy's help to stuff the Orks inside the Deff Dreads-an Ork doctor, whose usual treatment involved cutting off the injured part and replacing it with machinery.

Boomblasta's greatest dream was still to build a Gork Dreadnought or a Morkanaut. These were mechanical idols made in the image of the Orks' gods. Whenever one appeared on the battlefield, all the Orks would flock around it. And, as ever, it would seek out the biggest, strongest, flashiest enemy for a duel.

Several days later, Hive City Mikya fell. Blood soaked the entire hive. Not one of its five billion inhabitants survived; all became food for the Orks.

The great warlord Mistanbol immediately led his Ork army onward to the Manufactorum District. There, he would obtain the finest war supplies for the weapon he had long planned, one that would be his pride and joy.

The Manufactorum District's defensive firepower was formidable. After all, the factories were right behind them, and anything they produced could immediately be fired. But there were too few defenders. The hive nobles, terrified of death, had used every channel they could influence to gather the entire world's military forces inside the Hive City, leaving few troops to hold the Manufactorum District. The foolish rulers stubbornly continued to believe that their Ork enemies were nothing more than man-eating monsters, never noticing that Ork technology had quietly approached their own and, in some areas, even surpassed it.

After a horrific battle, the Orks successfully seized the Manufactorum District. Jubilant Orks shouted Waaaaaaaagh everywhere, while the Mek Big Boss Boomblasta completed his promotion and became a Big Mek. He now had his own team of subordinates, including many Mekboyz. He began working toward his dream: he would build a Morkanaut.

Afterward, the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter seized the Manufactorum District. Following the principle of taking whatever could be moved and blowing up whatever could not, they reduced the entire district to a heap of ruins.

At this point in the fighting, the Ork warlord Mistanbol suffered his first setback.

Personally, however, he was still quite pleased. Recently, a Big Mek under his command had "very happily" and "voluntarily" "given" him a Morkanaut. But he knew it was not yet time to unleash this killing machine. Although the space tin cans of the Shadow Blades and the Green Templars were struggling to hold on, the leaders of those two Chapters-those two powerful Astartes, or perhaps two teams of them-had not yet entered the fray. He had to intensify the offensive, force the enemy to act, and then use the Morkanaut to settle everything in a single battle.

Evan's current feelings could be summed up in one word: Bored.

Two words: So bored.

He checked the sky for incoming missiles and, if he spotted any, shot them down with his Bolter. Occasionally, he fired precise bursts to kill stragglers about to climb onto the wall.

The entire North Pole Fortress had its own water reserves in the ice and no passages connecting it to the outside world. Digging through the ancient permafrost beneath them would take the Orks at least two or three years, while they only had to hold for nine hours-or, counting from now, another three.

This isn't what I was promised. Weren't we supposed to charge into enemy bases, spray them with gunfire, and storm in to blow their headquarters sky-high? Instead, I'm stuck here mechanically shooting, aiming, shooting, aiming. My trigger finger is actually aching.

The regular troops in the positions below, however, were in high spirits. Since the Green Templars had arrived on the battlefield, their casualty rate had dropped by more than ninety percent. The main reason, of course, was that the Orks could no longer get onto the wall, and even if they did, the Astartes would deal with them. They finally had enough men to rotate shifts. A few soldiers who had gotten carried away even stood atop the wall and sprayed gunfire downward.

Of course, Milanko Hive City, which had yet to fall, was nowhere near as fortunate.

The Shadow Venom Blade Chapter stationed there had always been short on manpower, and they had no walls nearly as sturdy to hold. Even with booby traps scattered through the city's ruins and heavy weapons positioned in advance, the Orks' numerical advantage allowed them to break through quickly. The defenders could only keep demolishing buildings, collapsing tunnels, and blocking pipes to slow the Orks' advance. Whenever they had a spare moment, they prayed that the city's Void Shield would hold a little longer.

"Why isn't the Storm Will here yet?"