Chapter 172: Regicide Chess (Part 2)

"They don't have the manpower."

Some gladiators were hit by ground artillery, and one of them died on the spot. Although the number of dead seemed insignificant in a war, the number of warriors who could still fight side by side with the Lord of Red Sand was only a few dozen. The loss of each life was a heavy weight that was extremely difficult to bear.

"They have no experience."

A team of warriors who could not solve the problem of reloading angrily threw down their guns heavily, gnashing their teeth behind the hill, watching the vehicles of the city defense army pass through the low-lying passage they guarded. The mission delivered by Angron himself missed the only opportunity, and every failure of theirs would be a hidden danger in the future battle.

"They have no reputation."

The flags with red background and black stripes were pulled down and burned by the local Nuceria army. Before these flags were actually planted all over the city walls of Nuceria by Angron and his brothers and sisters, this was just another gladiator uprising that happened once every few decades. They could not scare anyone, let alone mobilize the resistance of more fellow slaves. Angron and his warriors needed military exploits and fame, and none of this could come from the sky.

"But they can certainly win," Morse said, waiting for further changes on the chessboard of the regicide chess.

In the white area marked as the city of Desia on the chessboard, Angron was discussing tactics with his warriors.

"We must act on a small scale," the Primarch said, "cherishing life. I am completely opposed to carrying high-powered explosives for single-person attacks without return. Even in the future, when our numbers increase, unnecessary casualties still need to be avoided. Don't hurt civilians. Our target of hatred is the high-ranking riders, even if many of us do have resentment towards the spectators on the platform."

The second half of his sentence caused a small internal dissatisfaction, but with Angron's insistence, this dissatisfaction was quickly reduced and resolved. They united again.

"He needs to be careful," Morse said. "Not everyone is like him, holding some kind of weak goodwill." After he finished speaking, he found that he still said this word.

"Hmm..." The Emperor pondered and continued to pay attention to the changes on the chessboard.

He noticed that the warriors around Angron seemed to be particularly easy to reach a certain unity in emotions. When creating the Primarchs, he gave almost every Primarch the same moderate psychic talent, with the exception of Magnus, a complete psychic. As for No. 12, he seemed to have shown his talent in telepathic psychic power.

On the chessboard, the city that was constantly disturbed had entered a primary defense state. After a long period of slowness caused by no foreign invasion, the mobilization of soldiers and the transportation of firepower were on track. Interestingly, there was still no martial law inside the city. Perhaps in addition to the distant threat of the city being breached, the arrogant needs of the nobles and the ruling class in the city were more urgent for the garrison general.

When the army retreated to the outposts in the city or around the city, Angron's gladiators would immediately launch a surprise harassment on the base. Their rear was in Desia, a city that had been jointly guarded by the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors, two legions that were particularly good at defensive warfare. This made Angron not have to worry about any future troubles.

When the Nuceria local army took the initiative to mobilize its forces to attack, Perturabo, with an attitude between generous gift and forced request, seriously forced a large number of artillery and rockets to Angron to help the Primarch in the red sand attack the enemy.

During this period, the two armies that were on an expedition for the Empire naturally could not waste time on the planet of Nuceria for a long time.

The city of Desia on the surface was regarded as a temporary base for the expedition. Perturabo and Rogal Dorn used Nuceria as the center point to advance the army to the surrounding star regions. They had learned that there were several different areas inhabited by humans not far away, such as the Tower LS system. It's just that they couldn't locate the coordinates in that direction for the time being.

In short, the first planet that succumbed to the peace talks of the two Primarchs was a planet named the Lightless Star by the locals. There, Perturabo saw some familiar milky white bone materials abandoned there again. They did not track down the owners of these plastic materials that seemed to grow and transform on their own.

Angron was looking for the pulse of the war in his own way. For such a Primarch, any existing systematic war teaching could not fully suit his will. He could only find his own way of war in the war.

Soon after, the attacked city-states began to change their thinking and sent out mobile troops for reconnaissance. The large number of improvised roadside bombs set up by Angron brought many difficulties to their light patrols, while the tens of kilograms of large-yield anti-tank bombs and artillery shells connected in series as improvised explosive devices hindered the activities of the heavy patrols. In fact, the patrols could not even find the rocket launchers set up by Angron.

If Angron had more warriors, he would essentially prefer to let the warriors themselves participate in the interception, and grenades and grenades in his inherent thinking were more like weapons of bluffing by the superiors, which were not suitable for warriors who grew up in the hot sand.

However, the reality is that in order to protect the few companions around him, Angron accepted the endless firepower and ammunition left by the Iron Warriors to replace the sacrifice of real people.

In any case, this flexible team had a great impact on the morale of the armored forces of the city army. The city of Huozan, which had the technological advantage of the Old Night - they now learned the name of this city - was furious. Their technological advantage was weakened by their cowardice.

After many attacks, the city of Horzan began to launch an unsystematic attack. Their aircraft took off from behind the watchtower and flew towards the locked direction of Desia. Naturally, these military attempts were easily strangled by the Imperial Fists soldiers defending the city.

"Primarch Angron, do you need any assistance?" asked the captain of the Imperial Fists. "The indiscriminate targets of these local defenders are the residential areas and production areas of Desia City, as well as the Blood and Tears Wall being built by the Tark family. Some bricks were shaken off."

Angron smiled: "If you want to fire siege cannons, Captain, tell us in advance, I will withdraw my soldiers from the war zone."

He did not object to using the power he already had to fight. After all, it was his brother's care that saved them from the beginning. Angron would not pursue the purity of the illusory position in the concept of resistance without limit - well, maybe this is also related to the fact that the military technology of the Empire is too easy to use.

In short, no matter how these high-level riders glide in the air on their silver wings, or lie on velvet sofas and look down on others, no matter how sophisticated their sound wave jammers and matter conversion beamers are, the speed at which their will to persevere declines is tragic and terrible.

Moreover, after monitoring the attitude of the local people on the enemy's communication channel for the first time, Angron also had a new understanding of the high-level riders' real control over their people.

The war forced the bloody performance in the arena to come to an end, and the atmosphere of security threats permeated the city of Hozan.

After losing the distracting national entertainment, the people finally realized that their lives were empty, and when they raised their heads, the people did begin to think about why they had so little, while the high-level riders seemed to own the whole world.

This, together with the war warning that had not sounded in Hozan for hundreds of years, shook the high-level riders' dominance over the people from different angles.

When the first rocket hit the watchtower of Hozan, the myth that the army under the command of the high-ranking riders could not be challenged was quickly and ruthlessly broken in front of the entire city of Hozan. From the army to the people, although the actual losses were not small, their psychological and spiritual blows were still far greater than the actual military losses.

The whole city was immersed in a speechless shock, and the daily activities of work and life that were forced to be suspended during each attack quickly turned this shock into dissatisfaction with the ruling class.

This negative emotion reached a peak when the Hozan garrison later publicly announced that they would not launch further attacks on Desia. Another group of nobles who clashed with the high-ranking riders who dominated the country called the city and many people simultaneously attacked the garrison for their "indecision, cowardice and incompetence", while the family that dominated Hozan had no words to say.

They could not understand why a group of gladiators had such abnormal tactics, military strength and discipline. In any recorded slave rebellion, some slaves did succeed in breaking into the city, but the long and exhausting battle weakened the family's rule in a way that the high-ranking riders had never expected.

For a long time, the high-ranking riders looked down at the arena, watching the cages of many dissenters, rebels, descendants of enemies and sinners, and helpless orphans fighting in cages, and they may not have been without a sense of superiority and mockery.

They gained a sense of inner security by watching gladiatorial combat, and borrowed the meaning of slaves' existence to reinforce the idea that the disobedient had been shackled, locked in cages, and domesticated: these powerful rebels who were able to fight wild beasts with their bare hands were just toys in the hands of the nobles.

After the public competition stopped, the high-ranking riders began to organize bloody gladiatorial performances privately, which intensified the pressure from the outside world, and the pressure from the outside world was released on the heads of the lowest-level slaves in Huozan, with a sense of urgency that the end of the world was approaching. Under normal circumstances, high-ranking riders would consciously control the death rate of gladiators, so as not to find that their toys were consumed one day, but now, they have less conscious scruples.

In addition, some civilians on the high platform gained the same sense of pride as the nobles when watching the fights, and these people panicked and defected faster than anyone else.

For them, the red-bottomed black flag indicated that a group of terrifying beasts from the neighboring country had broken out of their broken chains and broken cages, and they believed that these beasts would threaten their own lives after killing all the guards. In the city of Hozan, the security balance system that Nuceria had built for hundreds of years was broken in an instant. They began to ask the rulers of Hozan to protect their lives.

This trend was used by other factions among the nobles, so it became more and more intense. After all, some people often believe that a crisis is a good time to seize power.

This battle caused almost no loss to Angron's side, and many people even gradually walked out of the shadow of the arena through this hopeful war that was commanded to achieve results.

Angron himself was immersed in the battle. His mind was not disturbed, but became clearer. He clearly knew the reason for every order he made and could answer why he was fighting. Deep in his heart, he gradually made a decision.

When Angron led the gladiators to knock down Hozan's watchtower and use light vehicles to break through the chaotically defended Hozan city from the front, the gladiatorial arena in the city finally took the opportunity to launch a riot. Some slaves did not break the chains on both wrists and rushed out of the cave swinging two iron ropes. The double oppression of high-ranking riders took away the possibility of their survival, and gathering under the banner of Angron became their only way out.

Likewise, compared to the real threat posed by the gladiators of Hozan, mass panic is what really captures the lifeblood of the city of Hozan. After a long period of preparation, this frontal assault took no more than thirty hours in total from entering the city gate, conducting urban combat, to breaking through Huozan's palace. The Guards' silver vine mechanical tentacles and advanced guns are extremely powerless in urban warfare.

If we include the incident where a few gladiators found the stairs leading to the top of the palace, planted their flags on the top of the highest palace in Hozan, and made their symbols flutter in the air, then the time spent was within thirty-one hours. .

Angron specifically asked the warriors to bring the supreme ruler of Hozan City to him, and burst into laughter when they discovered that the so-called ruler turned out to be a five-year-old child with weak legs and feet.

He leaned over and rubbed the child's head, and recognized from the child's rough palms that this child might be a laundry slave.

"This is what they chose." Angron said solemnly, tearing up the list he had prepared.

He originally planned to have his gladiators execute high-ranking knights whose crimes deserved to be listed on the list. After all, the pressure on the warriors needed to be released.

"Kleist," he said, "please help me find the genealogical records of the ruler's family history, and then find the gladiators of Hozan and tell them that they can come to me with the heads of the people in the genealogy. In addition, , can you help me find the real master of Huozan?"

The female gladiator readily agreed, stepping on her long knife and leaving like a dancer. Thirty minutes later, a nobleman wearing a messy linen bag knelt at his feet.

"Stand up." Angron said, pulling the nobleman up from the ground.

When the other party could barely stand still and put on an awkward and flattering expression that hid resentment, intending to accept the new conqueror as his master, he tore the other party's flesh and blood, letting the blood and internal organs pour out.

"Do me one more favor, Kleist." Angron wiped the blood from his face and said calmly, "Go and ask the correspondents left by my brother's army if they can contact Terra for me."

His gaze passed through the long hall and landed on the horizon. Today's clouds are the iron-gray color of weapons and equipment, covering many of Nuceria's high walls and towers that have not yet been breached. The war will continue on the ground and will never end.

And he had just liberated a city with his own hands. In the future, as his two brothers said, they will bring liberation and new life to more planets.

"I think... we can carry out the next liberation together with my future army." The Lord of Red Sand said.

Kleist grinned, the scar making her face distorted and wild. Based on those vague impressions, she saluted Angron with a very informal military salute.

Terra, Himalayas, Royal Palace.

"Then, this regicide chess game is over." Morse raised his hand, peeling off his spiritual energy like silk threads in circles. The illusion of Nuceria disappeared from the top of the chessboard, and he withdrew his flashing runes like smoke. , in the palm wrapped in black cloth.

He closed the chessboard and smiled at the Emperor.

"Go." The emperor nodded.