Chapter 337: Russ pees on the head of Lion's bed

This is Calth, a Death World.

Once, Calth was a lush civilized world, a beautiful planet that was developed, prosperous, and flourishing, possessing a manufacturing industry capable of rivaling Macragge. By relying on ancient technological creations called superconducting rings, the people of Calth could transport their industrial and agricultural products into space cheaply, conveniently engaging in trade with the entire Ultramar.

On the eve of the end of the Great Crusade, Calth had developed into the sixth most important planet in the entire Ultramar. The people of Calth were proud of it; they were like a microcosm of the eternal glory of Ultramar. Today was better than yesterday, tomorrow would be better than today, and the golden dream would never fall.

But there is nothing in this world that will not break.

The Word Bearers Legion backstabbed the Ultramarines on this planet.

Horus, who had already betrayed them, ordered the Ultramarines and the Word Bearers to join forces on Calth, forming a joint force to counter the threat of the Orks.

Roboute Guilliman judged that those Orks would not pose a substantial threat to the Empire at all, but he mistakenly believed that Horus's true purpose was to repair the rift and estrangement that had arisen between the Word Bearers and the Ultramarines since the Monarchia incident.

Thus, the Ultramarines warmly hosted the Word Bearers on Calth; however, the Word Bearers repaid them only with betrayal, blasphemy, and Warp sorcery.

The entirety of Calth burned because of this. This once-beautiful planet lost its atmosphere, the golden dream shattered with a bang, the vast majority of the people of Calth died in the war, and the few survivors lived in the underground tunnels, eking out a miserable existence.

Since then, Calth has become the eternal pain in the heart of the Ultramarines.

Its status is roughly equivalent to Caliban for the Dark Angels, the Burning of Prospero for the Thousand Sons, and Monarchia for the Word Bearers.

And after ten thousand years, the master of the Ultramarines, Roboute Guilliman, has once again set foot on the surface of Calth.

This is the last stronghold held by the Chaos traitors. As long as the war here is ended, the entire Ultramar will return to the rule of Macragge.

Inside the Imperial command room within the tunnels of Calth,

Guilliman looks at the battle report with a gloomy expression.

He is not gloomy because of the current battle situation on Calth, but because of everything Calth has experienced during the ten thousand years he was asleep.

"During the War of the Beast, an Ork Attack Moon attacked Calth."

"During the Tyranid Wars, the Tyranid behemoth Executioner 'Old One Eye' ravaged Calth."

"Just a short while ago, the Word Bearers Daemon Prince M'kar the Reborn dug open the grave I personally designed for the Fourth Company Captain Remus Ventanus on Calth???"

Veins bulge on Roboute Guilliman's forehead, and his expression is so ugly it looks like he wants to tear the paper in front of him to shreds.

Zhou Yun picks up a handful of dust from the ground and clenches it in his hand, looking at the gloomy Guilliman. He originally wanted to tell that classic joke about Calth, Monarchia, and the Thousand Sons to liven up the atmosphere,

but just Guilliman standing here listening to the disastrous history of Calth over the past ten thousand years is enough to make one feel like they are in hell.

The matter before him,

is roughly equivalent to telling Lorgar that Monarchia has been bombed three more times, and Angron's grave has been destroyed by the Ultramarines,

or telling Magnus that Prospero has been bombed three more times, and Leman Russ is still peeing on the ashes of Ahriman,

or perhaps telling the Lion that Caliban has been blown up three more times, and Leman Russ is still peeing on the head of his bed.

"You are thinking of something impolite again." Sanguinius guesses what kind of blasphemous joke he is thinking of as he sees Zhou Yun clenching the sand of Calth.

"Do you have any opinions on my jokes? This joke is perfect; it has near-infinite scalability."

"For example, if this joke is changed to..."

Zhou Yun's mouth splits into a smile:

"A Dark Angel and a Thousand Son are arguing."

"The Dark Angel grabs a handful of sand from the ground and throws it in the Thousand Son's face: 'This is the ash of Prospero!'"

"The Thousand Son is not to be outdone, also grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it in the Dark Angel's face: 'This is the fragment of Caliban!'"

"Just then, a Cadian soldier rushes out, protecting the sand on the ground and shouting: 'Stop throwing, stop throwing, Cadia stands!'"

"Ah?" The commander of the Cadian 184th Regiment, Xiang Xiang Leina, casts her gaze toward Zhou Yun.

"Yes, yes." Sanguinius nods lightly on the side: "It can also be expanded to your hometown, Terra."

"After all, besides having an atmosphere full of nuclear radiation, Terra is not much better than Calth."

Zhou Yun's face drops instantly.

Thinking of his hometown, Terra, now being bombed by nuclear weapons until it looks like Mad Max, and even unable to grow those crisp, juicy apples that one could eat to have a wet dream about the magical girl Lion, Zhou Yun feels sad.

"I guess this joke also has versions for Calth and Monarchia?" Guilliman puts down the strategic report, his face twitching as he speaks.

"The Primarch's superhuman brain is at work." Zhou Yun nodded, indicating that Guilliman had guessed correctly: "If you want to hear it, I can tell you."

Guilliman's face turns black instantly: "I am going to add a regulation to the Imperial Codex that it is not allowed to make jokes about planets like Calth, Caliban, and Cadia."

Hearing this, Sanguinius shows a brilliant smile.

He says to Guilliman in a clear voice: "If you dare to write that Codex of yours raised by Erebus again, I will shatter your Armor of Fate with a single Spear of Telesto, and then have Cawl sew you into a Dreadnought, so you won't be able to write a single word for the rest of your life."

"The reason there are problems with the Codex Astartes is that it is not perfect enough. As long as I————" Guilliman argues.

And Sanguinius has already placed his hand on the Spear of Telesto.

Tigurius and Mephiston, who came with the two, both step back slightly, distancing themselves from the two Primarchs.

"Let's talk about it when we return to Terra." Guilliman sighs and concedes: "Let's end the war on Calth and even the entire Ultramar first."

Calth is the last area in Ultramar where organized Chaos forces are still active.

The underground here is filled with complex tunnels, and the war has been dragged out for a long time here.

In order to end the war as soon as possible, and also considering the important significance of Calth,

the two Primarchs and Zhou Yun have all come to Calth, and all have brought their respective Librarians.

"Roboute Guilliman's blue boys are biting really hard."

The Warsmith of the Bitter Sons warband, which originated from the Iron Warriors Legion, Kavalun, grinds his teeth and says:

"And our teammates are all a bunch of idiots!"

They hide in the shadows of the tunnels of Calth, exerting the talents inherited from their Primarch Perturabo, continuously constructing new defensive fortifications, killing zones, and trenches, forcibly controlling at least one-third of the tunnels of Calth amidst the almost endless tide of Ultramarines, making this the last stronghold of the entire Chaos side in Ultramar.

Other Chaos rebel forces defeated on other planets have also gathered in the tunnels of Calth.

These rebels should have become reinforcements and assistance for Kavalun and the Bitter Sons warband,

but in Kavalun's view, why are all the other warbands full of idiots?

First, internal strife broke out between the warband from the World Eaters and the warband originating from the Word Bearers. The sons of Angron roar and go mad, hacking and slashing at the Word Bearers; one World Eaters Chaos Lord even ascended to Daemon Prince by relying on eight hundred Word Bearer skulls, and then continued to slaughter indiscriminately.

Following that were the warbands of Abaddon's Black Legion, who were lured into traps prepared by the Ultramarines like idiots and slaughtered to the last man.

And there were the warbands originating from the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's Children; this group of pleasure-seeking idiots actually ran away directly after discovering they couldn't humiliate the enemy to their heart's content in trench warfare.

The Thousand Sons warband claimed to have received a summons from their father and used psyker spells to withdraw from the battlefield.

The Death Guard were even bigger bastards; they disappeared from the battlefield of Ultramar without even a reason.

And what about Kavalun's enemies? Originally relying on the ancestral warcraft of the Iron Warriors, Kavalun even occupied more than half of the tunnels of Calth at one point,

but he didn't expect the Ultramarines to drag the Imperial Fists, who were visiting Macragge, to participate in the war, and he didn't know where they dragged a group of Black Templars from. After this group of Dorn's sons joined the battle, the two sides instantly became evenly matched.

It is said that this was another idea from some wicked Saint Doraemon. I heard that He also had the Space Wolves pee on the ashes of the Thousand Sons Rubric Marines, played a recording of the destruction of Monarchia in front of the Word Bearers, and turned the face of a Blood Angels company into Horus attacking the Black Legion... It's almost as wicked as Erebus.

Today, the Iron Warriors led by Kavalun and other Chaos warbands occupy one-third of the tunnels, while the Black Templars, Imperial Fists, and Ultramarines occupy the other two-thirds.

But it doesn't matter; they have forged twelve killing zones, transforming the tunnels into bunkers capable of withstanding virus bombs. Even Dorn's sons cannot break through this meat grinder——————

A roaring sound suddenly erupts above Kavalun's head. He and the Iron Warriors in the bunker watch in horror as the ceiling of the bunker disintegrates in the blink of an eye, flying toward the sky as if gravity had reversed.

Large swathes of land are lifted up in roaring psyker energy, the bunker disintegrates under the great power of the Empyrean, and the Chaos rebels hiding in the shadows of the tunnels are exposed to the vacuum of Calth without any protection.

Kavalun looks at the airless sky with fear, looking at those figures releasing massive psyker light, like stars.

As a Warsmith, Kavalun knows the names of these figures.

The commander of the Cadian 184th Regiment, Saint Doraemon Prophet Xiang Xiang Leina—this is the weakest one among them, but she still casually lifts a mountain and smashes it into the tunnels exposed to the air.

There is also the Blood Angels Chief Librarian Mephiston, the Lord of Death, the one who returned from the Black Rage. The silver steel longsword in his hand swings out toward the ground, and the cold, solid ground turns into dust and vanishes.

The Ultramarines Chief Librarian Tigurius also stands in the sky, psyker fire erupting from his facial features, and psyker lightning thicker than a Hive City rages around him.

And there is that figure flying at the highest point, the Archangel Sanguinius, who spreads his wings, which are white with a hint of blue. His pure light illuminates the sky of Calth like a star, causing the countless Chaos rebels on the ground to let out bone-chilling wails.

Kavalun's expression is dull. Did he poke the False Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's hornet's nest? To have to face these few big shots who are enough to blow up the entire Calth?

At this moment, both the loyalists and the rebels understand that the war on Calth is over, and the war in Ultramar is also over.

At most, in a few hours, these warbands of theirs will dissolve into the psychic might of those four psychic lunatics.

"Mechanized Device. Star Adalia." A voice rings out in the void.

Kavalun suddenly sees that figure he had just ignored, who was not releasing psyker light.

That is a blue, round figure with a strange propeller on its head.

The next moment, Kavalun understands: they don't need a few hours; they are going to die right now.

Copied from the Blood Angels Librarians, containing the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's massive psyker power, Star Adalia shines on the horizon of Calth for less than a third of a second.

Then, the earth dissolves, and Kavalun feels himself being swallowed by light, and then, along with the power armor on his body, he dissolves into the heat of the star and the psyker power of the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

"My Calth!!!" Guilliman in the command post in the distance watches as half of Calth's continent dissolves in the scorching flames, and he grinds his teeth.

Zhou Yun had been holding onto this Stellar Adalia since Baal, and today he finally unleashed it; his mood immediately felt much better.

After all, this thing is copied from a star restrained by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's psyker power; even releasing its power for a brief moment is enough to melt a continent, pierce a planetary atmosphere, and cause the climate of an entire world to collapse.

But there is no such problem on Calth; Calth is a Death World with no atmosphere at all, basically just a big rock. There is no climate, let alone a collapse. Zhou Yun can vent this power wantonly.

It's just that Zhou Yun doesn't know that when he released Star Adalius, the erupting psyker power of the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang also attracted the gaze of someone in the Empyrean...

"The Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's psyker power." Ahriman stands by the shattered Webway, looking out at the psyker light flashing and disappearing in the Empyrean.

He wears a mask carved with ancient Prosperine runes, hiding all expressions beneath it. No one knows what kind of mood he is in at this moment; perhaps there is no mortal body left beneath that mask.

He turns his head to look at the few Harlequins of the Death Jester he has controlled with the Nine-Fold Curse behind him.

"Now, xenos, tell me the secret of your Death God."

Ahriman drags the black staff in his hand and walks to the front of the Harlequins.

He has been wandering in the Webway near Ultramar, waiting to capture the Harlequins of the Eldar.

"No!" A Harlequin dressed as a Savage Eldar refuses directly.

Ahriman doesn't say much either, directly swinging his staff across his head.

That Harlequin dressed as a Savage Eldar turns directly into ashes and dissipates...

"Hm?" Ahriman frowns slightly.

Why is there no soul? Just an empty shell? No, it's that he failed to restrain the soul of this Harlequin. Some existence took the soul of this Harlequin a step ahead of him.

"Ahahahaha." Seeming to notice Ahriman's expression, a Harlequin dressed as a jester laughs wildly.

"Ahriman! Our souls are protected by the human Death God Doraemon. After death, our souls return to the 22nd century. Where can your despicable soul go?"

That Harlequin dressed as a jester mocks Ahriman, and then he takes a deep breath:

"Pah! Human traitor! I, who am loyal to the human race, despise you!"

A mouthful of spit sprays onto Ahriman's face.

Ahriman cannot help but clench the staff in his hand.

Being called a human traitor by a damn xenos, it's so fucking infuriating!!!

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 338 =====