Chapter 307 Takeoff

During the Great Crusade, most of the technological wonders built and owned by the Legion were closely related to the gifts of ancient human knowledge.

The value of the STC templates left over from the Dark Age of Technology is immeasurable to this day, and some of the blueprints that have proven to be precious and practical are even more important than some of the resource-scarce and harsh conditions of the Imperial subordinate worlds.

However, as it represents many aspects, the Iron Warriors Legion is also at the forefront of the entire human Empire in terms of technological exploration.

This does not mean that the Iron Warriors' technology is far ahead of all official and unofficial research institutions in the Empire, but that under the leadership of the Primarch Perturabo, the Iron Warriors Legion tends to partially or completely break away from the technological heritage of the Dark Age of Technology according to its own needs and tailor-make its own technological products for itself.

One of the most famous giant space fortresses in the Great Crusade era, the Iron Wing, is an early good example. Although the technical basis is still derived from the reference and imitation of the Phalanx, anyone who has a little understanding of this huge ship will not equate it with the remains of the old night.

Today, although this historical academic theory has not yet become a consensus of the entire empire, many scholars have tended to look back to the past and think about the present, and they are willing to regard the early days of the Great Crusade, the end of the 30th millennium, when the Iron Wing left the low-Earth orbit and set sail from Olympia, the capital of the Olympia system, to participate in the Endless War. This time point is regarded as a landmark milestone in the development and progress of the Primarch Perturabo himself and the entire empire, and it cannot be ignored in the history books.

——"The Great Crusade Narrative: The Price Paid for Victory"

Some visitors who came to Olympia to participate in the Games returned too early, and the guests who stayed behind thought so complacently.

They parked their respective vehicles in the plain grass extending outward from Mount Telferus. Some visitors who realized that they had almost missed something after just taking off urgently landed their transport ships or transport planes, propped up the landing claws and lifting brackets in the soft soil, and then left the vehicles and looked at the peak of the snow-capped mountain.

At first, everything remained quiet for a long time under the white snow, and the clouds and mist surrounded it into a clean gauze. Under the blue sky, the glittering steel tower and the iconic two-color stripes of the Iron Warriors on the tower body were set off even brighter.

In Olympia, every sunny day is like this.

The number of people waiting is still increasing. As long as they can obtain entry permission from the Lokos Realm, people are willing to come from all directions and wait for what will happen on the ground in the wilderness.

Because it's time.

Above their heads, the huge Iron Won, relying on the multiple supports of the ground anti-gravity system, the spaceport and the self-locking ship anchor, casts a large area of ​​shadow on the ground.

A slight sound rang out from deep in the earth, and the low-frequency vibrations touched people's hearts. Thin steam began to rise and fall from the top of the metal tower, lingering around the orbital platform, blurring the network of cables and steel chains in the mist.

Then, in an instant, like a brilliant spark from a flint, golden lightning suddenly lit up from the central tower of the Iron Won.

The golden beam of light penetrated the sky and the earth from the Iron Won, reaching the end of the sky and down to the base of the spaceport, pushing the mountain clouds and high-altitude cumulus clouds layer by layer, drawing an insurmountable circle boundary.

The wind was blowing hard, the air was screaming sharply, and the full picture of the Iron Won was completely displayed above the earth. Observed from the ground, its ring-shaped shape has a neat structure that frames the bright sun of the star system within the ring.

The arc of lightning still illuminated the shadow part of the Iron Won under natural light with a hissing sound, spewing brilliant light. Soon, after the energy conversion structure was fully activated for the first time, the overflowing arcs were gathered and transformed into the lights in every window of the Iron Won.

The discussion in the crowd stopped. Their eyes and eyebrows were frozen with concentration and expectation.

In the silence, the cables connecting the space fortress began to fall off one by one, falling straight down and fluttering in the wind at high altitude.

Immediately afterwards, the lock of the first fixed ring was released, and the steel ring was decomposed into four curved arcs, expanding outward. The second fixed ring, as expected, broke into sixteen steel arcs, separated farther and lower than the innermost ring. The accompanying mechanical claws unlocked as the ring sank, leaving the countless access points of the Iron Won one by one.

When the last outer ring finished separating, the Iron Won still remained in orbit.

Suspended in the air.

There was no more strangeness, no earth-shaking fire or deafening explosion. Except for the orderly unlocking of the safeguards, nothing seemed to have changed.

The suspension of the Iron Won was so calm that even the hum of the engine was reduced compared to the previous ground power supply. The air returned to stillness after a brief surge, returning the silent space to the Iron Won, which was as stable as before.

People stared at the fortress in the sky in a daze, and froze in place for a while. Everything was silent, leaving only the heartbeat and the pulse of time.

Then, it began to rise. Its climbing process was slow and steady. In a short time interval, it seemed difficult for the naked eye to observe the change in the position of the Iron Won. But it was moving away, climbing and shrinking step by step, and light and shadow flowed on its surface without panic.

The sun shines through the rising smoke, forming a guiding staircase, leading the fortress across the sky and heading for the vast Milky Way.

It accepts its long-overdue departure, bids farewell to the gravity of Olympia, and approaches the end of the dome.

From the city in the sky, to the distant garden, to the disk as big as the sun, this fortress that has accompanied Olympia for nearly 20 years finally successfully and officially breaks away from the embrace of Olympia today.

The first person began to cheer, and then everyone else. They swayed, hugged each other, and shouted Perturabo's name, their faces lit up with laughter, just like doting parents expressing their congratulations.

With Olympia's blessing, the Iron Wing rose into space, left the surface of this green planet, and disappeared into the dark and cold universe.

——

When designing the Iron Blood, Perturabo only set up portholes in the front half of the ship and in his own office; when it came to the Iron Wing, the Lord of Iron completely lifted the restrictions on the arrangement of windows. Now, from the corridors to the halls, from the top floor to the floor, there are portholes everywhere that can bring the starry sky into the fortress.

After several days of sailing, the planet Olympia is completely out of sight from the window.

The Iron Warriors fleet is not yet ready to start the next warp voyage. The entire fleet is still moving freely in the real universe, waiting for the next order from the Legion Master to go to the next battlefield that requires the Iron Warriors to overcome difficulties.

The Iron Warriors never resist a battle within their capabilities, no matter whether the battle is glorious or not, easy or difficult.

For many years, Perturabo has been happy to put his own mark on one world after another before handing the results of the war to the Imperial Civil Service System. He has changed one planet after another in various ways, finding a perfect balance between the improvement of people's lives and the needs of the Empire's total war mobilization.

This seems to be the biggest reward he needs.

For the Iron Lord, the driving force required for war does not seem to come from anyone's orders or permission, but only from his ideals and his requirements for himself.

"I found a problem." Morse said to the sound array sequence.

Whether it is psychic energy or spells, for Morse, using them is as natural as breathing and taking a bath.

He is willing to use external objects now, just because he is in the energy room of the Iron Wyrm, looking around the steel engine that extracts the energy of the Star God fragment, and according to his limited knowledge, he is interested in exploring how Perturabo uses this unique power.

In this special environment, it is better for a person to follow the laws of the physical world.

Yes, in this field of technology, Perturabo has indeed gone further than Morse.

Perhaps even further than the Emperor, after all, the Lord of Mankind only needs to rely on his terrifying endless power, rather than occupying several rooms of extraction and calculation facilities, to hold this small fragment in his palm and play with it.

"What's the problem?"

After a while, Perturabo answered him, but not through the sound array sequence, but the mechanical Perturabo walked over directly, passed the identity verification at the door, and stood beside Morse.

It is worth mentioning that after Conrad Curze reminded Perturabo of the unreliability of genetic verification, the Lord of Iron thought about it and finally designed the door locks of key areas for him to manually control them. Without the data cable on the top of his head for access, even if his genes were 100% identical to Perturabo's, he would not be allowed to pass.

Morse was silent for a moment, without turning around, and spoke directly to the polyhedron container in front of him that contained the fragments of the sleeping star god: "Don't you think there is something I don't have to do now?"

If he chose to talk to Perturabo, he would have to look up or float up, so the craftsman would rather choose to directly abandon the common human conversation etiquette.

"I'm not sure," Mechanical Perturabo said, while taking the time to reply to an approval document on the data board in a hurry. Even during the Olympic Games, Perturabo did not neglect military and political affairs, but work was inevitably piled up on his desk.

"But I think there is one thing you can choose not to do." He said, quickly glancing at Morse.

"I guess we're talking about the same thing, Perturabo," Morse considered, tapping his chin with his cloth-wrapped fingers. "But neither of us wants to say it first."

Perturabo's long-repaired mechanical face showed a vivid distress that was easier to recognize than his original body's facial expression.

He thought for a moment, flicked his fingers, let the stylus installed in his index finger protrude, and then quickly wrote a line on the data pad, then raised the data pad higher so that Morse couldn't see it unless he flew.

"You go first," Perturabo said, "then I'll show you my data pad."

Morse shrugged: "I don't think I need to follow the Iron Warriors Expedition Fleet around the universe, Perturabo."

The distress on Perturabo's face turned into a barely perceptible smile.

He handed the data pad to Morse. "Maybe you don't have to follow the Iron Warriors Fleet, Morse." It read.

Since Morse completed his body, he can really do a small thing, that is, to make a snap without relying on runes to hit the air.

The black cloth disappeared from his hand for a moment, followed by a crisp snap of fingers.

"You probably think that if you speak first, it will seem like you are driving me away." Morse laughed.

"If you speak first, it will seem like you don't want to be in the same boat with me." Perturabo said.

"Of course, I believe that no one is willing to have a mentor staring at you while writing reports and putting flags on the sand table. Imagine that I am writing my third-rate script, and the Emperor is drinking his bottom nest brew within five meters of me twenty-four hours a day..."

Morse's face twitched at his own description, and he immediately cut off the possibility that did not exist in reality but was terrifying enough.

"It seems that the nostalgia of twenty years of separation is only enough to extract the total amount of patience required for two people to be together for one and a half months." He concluded. "After that, some creatures will evolve from rare species to invasive species."

"My fleet always welcomes your stay, Morse," Perturabo said calmly, "but recently, in every corner of the Iron Won, I have received abnormal signals and documents describing abnormal conditions that are rapidly increasing. Do you have any clues?"

"Do I look like someone who will take the initiative to cause trouble?" Morse stroked his fluffy hair, "Obviously, the threshold for the psychic concentration detection designed by Magnus for your fortress is set too low."

"But you are not a human." Perturabo blurted out, and before he finished speaking, he finally couldn't help it and immediately turned his head, the muscles in his ears and cheeks trembled slightly, and his chest rose and fell because of the rapid inhalation and exhalation.

"You stole my catchphrase, Lord of Iron." Morse said. "I should tell this joke."

"Sorry," the Primarch said with a smile, "but you were still human thirty thousand years ago. You made it clear."

"What do you think of that ancient story? Let me remind you first, you'd better not say that I have something in common with Leman Russ."

Perturabo exhaled, regained his calm and steady demeanor, and found his low voice again.

"An ancient legend," he said seriously, "belonging to an era of mythology."

"Long time later, what we are doing now will also become a myth."

Morse answered simply, he was well aware of the tricks that scholars used to create history.

"Anyway, lend me a minimum empty ship and I'll go out for a walk. As before, I've left a body shell in my room, and you can keep it in the closet. If you need anything, come to me."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure." Morse said, "Maybe to look for Coca-Cola's STC. Or those planets in the illusion of nothingness, it's best to go there to confirm the situation for your respected father. By the way, you have mortal-sized gas masks on board, right?"