will。”
Wulfe knew that the general’s orders overrode Bergen’s； but he wasn’t about to let that stop him。
“Siegler； load。 Beans； do what you do best； son！”
Thunderclaps echoed from the rusting metal walls all around as the surviving tanks of the 10th
Armoured Division blasted the bastardised Baneblade with everything they had。 Fire blossomed all
over it and heavy pieces of armour spun away in all directions。
“Stop！” yelled deViers over the vox； but nobody was listening。 “I command you to stop！”
The Adeptus Mechanicus also added their protestations； overriding the Cadian vox…comms to
issue warnings of their own； but to no avail。
Again and again； the tanks fired。 More and more of the true shape of The Fortress of Arrogance
was revealed。 Then one shot struck the raging warboss that stood atop the turret。 There was a sudden
burst of bright blue light and a loud cracking sound as the energy field generated by the warboss’
armour straggled to absorb the blast。 Against lesser weapons like lascannons； it might have held
indefinitely； but it simply wasn’t powerful enough to repel the sheer force of a tank round impacting
at full velocity。 The field collapsed and the beast’s right arm vanished completely in a fine red mist。
The warboss staggered and looked sideways at the ragged； bleeding stump of flesh with an
expression of slack…jawed disbelief。 That was when a second round； an armour…piercing shell from
Captain Immrich’s Vanquisher； Firemane； struck it dead centre in the torso。 The round punched
straight through the ork’s power armour； blew its guts out its back； and blasted it from its feet。
A great cheer went up from the Cadian soldiers； and they rallied for the third time that day。
Wulfe marvelled at them。 He knew how tired they were； but they were Cadians； all of them。 They
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would rather die of exhaustion than give up the fight。 It was their planetary heritage； this discipline
and strength。
“Cease fire；” shouted deViers again。 “Cease fire； at once！”
The tankers stopped firing。 The Baneblade still rumbled forward； but without their commander；
the crew were confused and lost。 The ork foot soldiers were distracted by the sound of the Cadian
cheer and turned to find that their warboss had been slain。 Without his overwhelming strength and
dominance； the unity of the ork force collapsed。 Old factions that had once been rivals were
suddenly free to wage war against each other again； and the entire force fell into absolute and
immediate disarray。 Greenskins began hacking and firing at other greenskins just as fiercely as they
were fighting with the Cadians。 It didn’t take the Guardsmen long to capitalise on this。
The clashing of heavy blades and the barking of large calibre stubbers and pistols gradually gave
way to the ordered crack of las and hellgun volleys。
Within the hour； the sounds of fighting died off altogether。
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CHAPTER THIRTY…FIVE
“Get those men down from there；” deViers stormed。 “Get back all of you。 Damn your eyes； I’d have
some of you shot but for the fact that we have our prize at last。 Gruber； give me that vox…amp unit。
And you there！ Yes； you。 Help me up at once。”
A young trooper bearing the insignia of the 110th Mechanised Regiment gave General deViers a
boost up onto the track…guards of The Fortress of Arrogance。
Kasrkin storm troopers had already popped her hatches and slaughtered her greenskin crew； and
her engines had stopped rumbling。 She stood still and silent as the general climbed up to stand on
the top of the turret。 It had been a pulpit once； a place from which Commissar Yarrick had given his
rousing speeches to Imperial troops before leading them into battle。 DeViers could feel it now； all
that glory settling on his shoulders like a fine heavy cloak。 He glanced down at the body of the
warboss where it lay on its back。
Disgusting beast； he thought。
The stench from its innards made his nose crinkle； but it would take much more than that to ruin
the moment。 He turned and faced out towards the ordered ranks of troopers。 There were so damned
few of them。 Had he really started all this with over twenty thousand men？ The losses seemed
incredible； but Yarrick had demanded victory at any cost。 DeViers had held to that remark； and now
he had his victory。
He saw Magos Sennesdiar and his tech…adepts moving towards the front； their robes stained dark
at the hem by all the blood that soaked the ground。
DeViers lifted the microphone of his vox…amp unit and began； “Men of Exolon and of the
Adeptus Mechanicus； let us always remember this day。 It has taken time； resources and the sacrifice
of many of our Cadian brothers to make this dream a reality。 But here we stand； victorious； and the
greatest prize in all the Imperium of Man is finally in our hands。 I stand upon it； and I feel its holy
spirit all around me： The Fortress of Arrogance； a holy relic the likes of which few men could ever
hope to see。 Come forward if you wish。 Lay your hands on it。 Feel its holy spirit wash over you and
inspire you。 Even in this wretched state； desecrated by our enemies； robbed of its true glory； it still
exudes a power that surely embodies something of the Emperor Himself。”
On he went； talking of a glory that would never be forgotten。 He believed every word that came
out of his mouth； and the strength of his conviction convinced many of the men who listened。
Caught up in the moment with all those eyes fixed on him； all those ears hanging on his every
word； General deViers didn’t hear the scrape of metal on metal。
He didn’t know anything was wrong until he felt hot； stinking breath on the back of his neck。
His blood ran cold as ice and he moved to turn； but it was a motion he never finished。 The ork
warboss was barely alive； able to stand only by virtue of a central nervous system that had been
developed to work through indescribable levels of physical pain； that； and the all…consuming hatred
it felt for weak； pathetic humans。
It closed its remaining power claw around the general’s middle and； with the briefest twitch of
its fingers； cut the man in half。
Colonel Stromm of The Fighting 98th was in the front row； standing just a few metres in front of
the Baneblade’s hull。 He was moving before the general’s upper body tumbled sideways from the
turret。
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“Kasrkin！” he yelled to his men as he tore his hellpistol from its holster。 Together； he and his
storm troopers began blazing away at the giant swaying ork。
It shuddered as it was peppered with searing shots。 Then it fell backwards again。
The firing stopped。
Magos Sennesdiar wasted no time。 He surged forward； leaping onto the front of the Baneblade
with an agility that was totally at odds with his bulk。 His adepts immediately climbed up after him。
As they hurried onto the top of the turret； Armadron said；
said Xephous。
Sennesdiar was the first to reach the body of the ork。 The creature was breathing no more。 There；
around its tree…trunk neck； he saw a glimmer of green and gold。
The fragments he told his adepts。
his adepts intoned together。
“Is the damned thing dead？” asked a gruff voice。
Sennesdiar quickly tugged the fragment from around the warboss’ neck； breaking the leather
cord that held it there； and hid it within the deep folds of his robe。 Then he rose and turned to face
the speaker。
“Colonel Stromm。 The ork leader no longer lives。 Adepts；” he said； addressing his subordinates
in Low Gothic； “it is time we launched our beacon。”
Together； the three Martian priests climbed down from The Fortress of Arrogance； and strode
towards their Chimera； passing Major Generals Bergen； Killian and Rennkamp on the way。 All three
men looked drawn and exhausted； and they were speechless as the tech…priests passed。
When Sennesdiar was within a few metres of them； he said； “One of our lifters can be expected
to arrive within the hour； major generals。 My servitors will tend to the Baneblade； but I suggest we
all make haste in our preparations to leave。 Golgotha is still home to a vast population of orks。
Tarrying too long could prove to be a grave mistake。”
The magos moved off； but he had only gone about ten metres when Bergen called out to him。
“Sennesdiar；” he said。 “Tell me； will you answer a question？”
Sennesdiar turned。 “Ask it。”
Bergen’s eyes were hard。 “Did you get what you were looking for？”
The magos paused for the briefest instant； and Bergen found himself imagining that； had
Sennesdiar still possessed a face capable of it； he would be wearing a smile。
“Didn’t we all？” said the magos。 Then he turned and moved off again。
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CHAPTER THIRTY…SIX
The sky was turning from red to murky brown。 It would be night soon； but Wulfe and the others
wouldn’t be here to see it。 They were leaving。 What remained of the 18th Army Group’s vehicles
had already been rolled or towed up the ramps and into the gaping holds of the Mechanicus lifter。
On the battlefield； the fires had gone out in most of the wrecks。 Men moved among the dead；
collecting dog tags from the necks of their fallen brothers； and retrieving l