"Yes, Lord Archangel. I will help resolve the issue on Sadrika and protect the beacon."
Datch nodded and accepted Sanguinius's mission. Shortly afterward, he took out his teleport gun, set the coordinates for the mission planet Sadrika, and opened a teleportation portal.
A hole of light emitting a green radiance appeared from empty space, slowly rotating as it released its emerald glow.
The moment Datch stepped forward, his body was instantly swallowed by the hole of light and vanished.
"The nameless ones always appear and disappear in such a hurry. And their aesthetic sense remains as unique as ever."
Raphael, who had been promoted to captain of the Sanguinary Guard, wore power armor painted in deep crimson.
To be honest, at first he had no idea who this nameless man was. When the two first met, the other party had been wearing a ridiculous clown helmet along with Blood Angels power armor. This time, the opponent was clad in Lich King armor that gave off an extremely evil impression, instinctively making one think he belonged to the forces of Chaos.
"You just have to get used to it. That's the kind of person he is."
Seth, leader of the Flesh Tearers chapter, agreed and turned his eyes back to the data predictions on the strategic platform.
"Alright, enough about the nameless one. Let's get back to the main topic."
Sanguinius's voice was calm, yet it carried an unmistakable dignity.
The Astartes and general officers who had been distracted by the nameless one quickly returned their focus to their duties.
The operations room regained its previous bustling state.
Although an anonymous individual had been dispatched to support Sadrika, given that person's abilities, protecting the beacon should pose no problem.
However, there was still no smile on Sanguinius's face.
The Archangel's gaze remained fixed on the holographic star map suspended above the strategic hub. Red zones had appeared on the dark side of the Imperium, and they were constantly expanding. Each red dot represented chaotic forces.
One of those red dots was expanding the fastest. Inside it, the symbol bore the name of the cursed one: Magnus.
That man had been continuously expanding his influence, waiting for this very opportunity to seize a position of power. They had built a vast psychic empire comparable to the Imperium of Man. Every day, confused or corrupted souls were tempted by it, rushing toward the abyss of knowledge and becoming slaves to Magnus—or to the gods.
Even though he knew Magnus's power was growing rapidly, Sanguinius had no time to deal with his traitorous brother.
The current state of the Imperium's dark side could no longer be described as merely bad. Every world colonized by humanity was like a candle flame flickering in the wind—the flame of civilization weakening, wavering, on the verge of extinguishing at any moment.
Requests for aid flooded in from across the galaxy like a tsunami. Once all encryption and formatting were stripped away, only the most primitive screams, cries, and despairing silence remained.
It was not just specific outposts that had been attacked; entire sectors were engulfed in flames. This was not a mere defeat in a single battle, but a deliberate and celebratory destruction of the very foundations of civilization.
War was no longer limited to skirmishes at the borders—it had become the daily noise occurring everywhere across the worlds. Children born in this era learned how to fire a gun before they even learned to walk.
"Father, what must I do to save the innocent citizens of the Imperium?"
Sanguinius murmured to himself.
...
The planet Sadrika, once home to numerous forges and bustling commercial centers, had now turned into a hellish landscape.
The magnificent cities that once dotted the planetary surface had been transformed by intense bombardment into mountain ranges of ruins spewing endless black smoke.
The air was scorching hot, filled with the acrid stench of oxidized metal and the oily reek of unburned promethium.
Alpha's nameless warriors, the Chaos Lord born from the Emperor's sons—Excrucias the Flawless—along with the Khorne-serving assassin Hordas and numerous daemon engines and cultists, launched an assault on the hive city in an attempt to seize the beacon.
Furthermore, another major figure had joined the battle. It was Khârn, favored by Khorne, who had also thrown himself into the slaughter.
On the Imperium's side, the defense was led by the Living Saint Celestine, Imperial Fists 4th Company Commander Paetrov Dysorian, and Colonel Hespus commanding the human forces.
They gathered their remaining strength and stubbornly fought the enemy under desperate conditions, repelling wave after wave of attacks.
Celestine, soaring high in the sky, resembled a moving golden sun. The dazzling holy light she radiated drove countless daemons into screams. She was the symbol of faith for the Imperial Guard, representing that the Emperor's will still stood with the people of the Imperium and preventing them from falling into true despair.
However, although the Imperial garrison forces had repeatedly succeeded in driving back the enemy, falling into the abyss of defeat was inevitable. With each victory they achieved, they were forced to strengthen their defensive formations even more rigorously. Due to a shortage of personnel, they had no choice but to shrink the defended zones.
At present, most of the city had already fallen. On this world, humanity faced either massacre or degradation into the lackeys of traitors.
The final decisive battle erupted near the Battle Sisters' monastery. When the last defensive line collapsed and the lighthouse went dark, it would mean the defenders had suffered complete defeat.
After repeated bombardments, the monastery had been reduced to ruins. Half of the Gothic-style spires had collapsed, and the magnificent reliefs were covered in blast marks and blasphemous graffiti. Statues of the Emperor and heroes lay toppled or shattered here and there.
After once again repelling a joint assault by heretical Astartes and daemon engines, the courtyards and corridors were littered haphazardly with the corpses of heretics and loyalists. Bright red blood had coagulated on the tattered floors. The air was filled with a nauseating stench mixing sweat, blood, excrement, and decay.
"In the name of the Emperor, retreat immediately."
Paetrov Dysorian, commander of the Imperial Fists 4th Company, wore power armor dented and scorched in many places. His voice, hoarse from prolonged roaring, still carried the force of a forge hammer striking an anvil.
"Reinforce all breach points! Repair the damaged vehicles and artillery units!"
"The enemy will return soon. We must be prepared."
The survivors—including Astartes, Battle Sisters, regular soldiers, and technicians—pushed their bodies to the limit like horses whipped into motion. They carried sandbags and metal plates, welded broken fortifications, and distributed the remaining ammunition to the most critical firing positions.
Just as everyone had sunk into despair and prepared to fight the enemy to the death, a hole of green light suddenly appeared in empty space, drawing everyone's attention.
Immediately afterward, Datch—clad in Lich King armor—stepped through the light portal and entered the devastated monastery's hall. His feet landed lightly on the gravel and spent casings scattered across the main hall floor, and the teleportation portal closed silently behind him.
Everyone present widened their eyes in shock at this bizarre scene.
"Enemy attack! Stay alert!"
"Curse Chaos in the Emperor's name!"
"Damn it, how did they infiltrate? Wasn't there a warp shield?"
"Why can he teleport directly?"
...
Amid the confusion and suspicion, the metallic clack of loading shells into boltguns and the high-frequency whine of lasguns charging rang out simultaneously.
The Imperial Fists instinctively formed a crossfire formation. The Battle Sisters already had their bolt pistols and chainswords ready. Sister Levinia's eyes burned with the fierce resolve to perish together with the enemy.
"Cease."
Celestine spoke in a majestic and dignified holy voice that echoed throughout the entire hall. She descended from above the ruined arcade, and the airflow stirred by her spread wings kicked up dust and the scent of blood from the ground.
The warm, sacred light radiating from her contrasted sharply with the dim emergency lights and flickering flames in the corridors. She landed firmly between Datch and the gun barrels, fearlessly using her faintly glowing body to block all lines of fire.
Why would the saint try to stop us?
Sister Levinia wore a puzzled expression as she lowered her bolt pistol and the roaring chainsword.
"Lower your weapons."
Celestine began speaking in a voice of absolute authority.
"The nameless ones are the embodiment of the Emperor's will as He walks among the people. Your guns should be aimed at the true enemy, not at the Emperor's emissary."
She switched to a humble tone when addressing Datch.
"Nameless one, praise be to you."
Datch's gaze first swept across the faces of the people, filled with doubt and shock. Finally, he looked at the Living Saint hovering above with an exclamation mark and asked,
"How is the current situation?"
A faint bitterness appeared on the Living Saint's face. She said nothing, merely turning sideways and pointing with her armored hand at the still-operating holographic projector in the corridor.
The machine displayed a heart-wrenching scene.
The Imperial Navy had suffered a devastating defeat against the Chaos fleet and had completely lost control of the space around the planet. The entire orbit of Sadrika had fallen into their hands.
The most serious problem was the warp rift with its eerie glowing edges, which continued to expand and writhe, already swallowing much of the galaxy. It was now constantly assaulting Sadrika and would soon approach the planet and devour it.
Celestine wore a perplexed expression. "Nameless one, we have failed."
"The enemy has occupied Sadrika. The warp is expanding rapidly and is about to swallow the planet—and eventually the entire star system. We have summoned battleships in preparation to destroy the beacon."
Datch frowned as he understood the situation.
"The condition of this planet is truly dire."
Then Datch noticed that the exclamation mark above Celestine's head had changed into a golden question mark. He couldn't help but ask,
"Living Saint Celestine, is there anything I can help you with?"
Celestine had participated in the Ultramar expedition and the pilgrimage to Terra alongside the nameless ones, so she knew their personalities and temperaments well. Without the slightest hesitation, she looked straight into Datch's eyes and expressed her most urgent wish.
"The enemy is about to launch a new offensive. We need someone to stop them and ensure the safe evacuation of the beacon and the Imperial personnel."
A mission directive appeared in Datch's eyes.
[Mission: Support the evacuation of the remaining Imperial survivors on Sadrika.]
The collapse of Sadrika is inevitable. The Living Saint Celestine wishes to safely remove the beacon. However, the enemy pursues them relentlessly like a pack of wolves, making escape difficult. Please help them break out and evacuate safely.
[Quest Rewards: 1200 EXP, 1200 Points, +100 Reputation, 100 Boba-flavored Beans]
"I didn't expect to be able to start another mission."
Datch was somewhat surprised. He had thought there were only main quests related to the Archangel. Unexpectedly, a side quest had appeared.
"Understood. I'll buy you some time."
Datch nodded and accepted the Living Saint's mission.
Then, while everyone watched in shock and confusion, he took out the golden hammer. He ran along the defensive line and struck the broken walls with the hammer. The brick fragments returned to their original positions as if a video were being played in reverse, and the cracks were repaired.
A light tap on a toppled defense turret straightened the twisted metal, extinguished sparks in the circuit boards, lit the indicator lights again, and restored functionality.
The blow landed on a dying wounded soldier; deep wounds regenerated rapidly with granulation tissue, broken bones healed naturally, and pale complexions quickly regained their color.
"This is... by the Emperor!"
Dysorian's eyes widened. As a veteran of countless battles, this was the first time he had witnessed such a miraculous event.
Hespus gaped, nearly dropping the data slate in his hand.
The few Mechanicus personnel accompanying the army trembled with excitement. They knelt on the ground, moving their hands before their chests in the shapes of gears and skulls. They chanted repeatedly,
"A miracle of the Omnissiah!"
"This is the creative power of the Omnissiah."
"Not a mechanical blessing, but a miracle that reconstructs reality."
Datch swiftly repaired damaged vehicles and fortifications, strengthening the defensive line. Treating the wounded granted him experience and credits.
He also obtained a ghost pickaxe to demolish unnecessary dilapidated buildings. With the sound of metal clashing, massive concrete blocks and metal beams transformed into neat, shimmering cubes. He then stacked them like building blocks at key points along the defensive line.
This created oddly shaped yet extremely sturdy sloped defensive walls and crossfire bunkers.
While continuing to repair the defenses, he advanced relentlessly toward the temple with the beacon.
"Saint, the nameless one's goal is the lighthouse," Sister Levinia couldn't help but glance at Celestine.
"It's fine," Celestine said. "The nameless ones are the embodiment of the Emperor's will."
Datch, protected by the Battle Sisters, passed through the final heavy gate engraved with holy runes and entered the temple containing the beacon.
It was surprisingly simple, with no complex machinery or roaring energy cores. There stood a strange mechanical throne, upon which a gaunt man sat with his eyes closed, as if in eternal slumber.
Clicking on the target's information displayed the details: [Kaleb, the Emperor's faithful devotee and the incarnation of the lighthouse.]
Bright light shone through Kaleb's skin and robes, forming faint yet persistent pillars of light that pierced through the material world and the warp mists. This was the beacon—a living lighthouse manifested through human flesh, blood, and a pious soul.
"The old yellow one really shows off divine power everywhere."
Datch saw the dazzling golden exclamation mark above Kaleb's head and couldn't help muttering in a low voice with dissatisfaction.
He stepped forward, took out the golden hammer, and gently tapped the other's forehead, healing body and soul. This was to prevent the pitiful human from meeting a miserable death under the Emperor's power.
Just as Datch finished his task, alarms blared. The enemy, blessed by the Chaos Gods, had launched another attack.
Datch rushed out of the temple, ready to support the defenders in halting the enemy's advance.
Using infinite jump, he landed on a high wall and looked outward, where a breathtaking battlefield scene unfolded.
The sky was covered in swirling blood-red mist. Within the thick fog, countless distorted shadows writhed and screamed.
Cultists driven by faith in terror rode evil vehicles made of flesh and bone, charging straight toward the heart of the Imperium. Daemon engines—war machines forged from living metal fused with daemonic essence—left burning craters in the ground with every step of their pillar-thick legs.
Roars, battle cries, and blasphemous chants merged into a single destructive wave that assaulted them.
"They are no longer ordinary enemies, but faith-based terrorist foes. We must resolutely counterattack."
Muttering to himself, Datch took out a Poké Ball and summoned Skarbrand.
With a roar...
The moment Skarbrand arrived, he let out a roar toward the sky. As Khorne's former highest-ranking daemon, an exiled traitor, and the most powerful Blood God daemon, Skarbrand's combat power far surpassed that of ordinary Greater Daemons.
He roared toward the sky, his cry filled with insatiable thirst for slaughter. Wherever the sound waves passed, the air churned.
The Khorne cultists and lesser daemons at the front froze in place the instant they saw Skarbrand. Something was wrong. Why had one of the Blood God's most powerful warriors defected to the Emperor's side?
At that moment, the red energy surging forward with ferocious momentum visibly experienced confusion and slowdown for a brief time. They could not understand why a great daemon wreathed in the Blood God's aura would side with humanity.
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Slaughter! Slaughter! Slaughter!"
Skarbrand roared as he soared into the air and brought his massive axe down upon Khorne's daemons and traitors.
"Blood sacrifice to the Throne, skulls for the Emperor!"
After the brutal act of violence, Skarbrand shouted a new slogan.
Both sides on the battlefield were stunned, thinking for a moment they had misheard. Until Skarbrand shouted again.
Whoa, so the true bloodline of the Blood Gods lies on Terra.
At that, a gigantic monster emerged from the red mist, radiating an oppressive aura with every step. It was the Slaughterer, Hordas—a true monster, even taller than a Dreadnought. Its muscles were extremely swollen and knotted, its face mutated with canine features, and in both hands it gripped enormous axes blazing with unnatural flames.
Slaughterer Hordas stared fixedly at the rampaging Skarbrand and let out an ear-splitting roar. Immediately afterward, he charged forward, raising his two massive axes high, intending to hack Skarbrand to pieces.
Skarbrand also noticed this fool daring to challenge him and a grin appeared on his ape-like face. Upon seeing his arrival, instead of surrendering, they dared to attack.