Chapter 408: Chess (Part 2)
"When the City of God travels on earth, it calls its companions from all earthly peoples, regardless of differences in laws, institutions, or virtues. As long as they love Him, it points to the peace of heaven." - "Logar" Book"
Malcador carried his Eagle Scepter and walked into the room where Morse and the Emperor were.
No matter in terms of age or appearance in the secular sense, the Imperial Chancellor is undoubtedly an old man who will be respected in any race and culture. But when he was in the same room with the two people in front of him, he was not sure. Can my steps also become lighter involuntarily, and my mood swings become richer?
Well, he thought, after so many years, he should have admitted it long ago: if he did not delve into the experiences and thoughts hidden deep in the soul, just judging from the many superficial phenomena of an individual's existence, he, the palmer, was The oldest one among them, even if Waldo was brought in, the situation would not change at all.
"How's it going?" Makado walked to the big table and looked down at the mess on the table. Some of the original chessboard shelters were destroyed by two unruly chess players and turned into small piles of dust on the table, flying in the air flow driven by their sleeves.
He noticed that the decorative angel statue in the center of the table had also been destroyed, and the emperor's golden psychic energy turned into little bits of debris, blending with the dust.
Regarding the ending of the second primarch, like Artisan Morse, the Patron Master also pieced together the whereabouts of the entire legion as the battle progressed.
They all believed that the Emperor knew better, even though the Master of Mankind far away on Terra may not really know the whole story - but the Primarch was one of the only twenty precious creations in the universe, and the Emperor could not erase it without reason. The existence of any person.
At least, based on Malcador's understanding of the Emperor, he still didn't think that a Primarch... who was behaving like this now could reach the bottom line of being completely eliminated.
"Now?" Morse turned his head. "According to the Terran chronology, we have just pushed it to 854."
The Artisan and the Emperor were now standing on either side of the table, leaning on the edge of the table and leaning towards the ongoing battle. The former took a step back, took his hands away from the edge of the long table, flexed his fingers ceremonially, and introduced the situation to Malcador.
"Ran Dan suffered a relatively severe blow in the first quarter, mainly led by the Luna Wolves. In the next entire quarter, they established more reserves to retake the territory captured by the imperial fleet. Planet's attempts were unsuccessful.
"At this stage, the Alien Angel family we are facing is highly flexible, and has also shown relatively obvious behavior of obeying unified dispatch. They are preparing to detour their forces from the west and south sides, trying to attack the defense line built by the Iron Warriors ”
His hand covered the side of the table. There was currently nothing in the direction he was pointing, but Malcador could imagine the war scene that took place at that time. He nodded slightly.
"At the same time, an unexpected group of angels intends to set out from the 177-54 area on the northwest side to attack our flanks and achieve a auxiliary assault on the defense line. If they succeed, the two battalions of the Iron Warriors will Suffer heavy losses, and the area from the 52-61 line in the middle may become a breakthrough point for a roundabout attack on our main force. After removing the intercepting detachment, the entire line of advance and charge will be opened.”
Malcador tilted his scepter to the table, and the eagle on the tip of the scepter stared at the area pointed by Morse, "The danger has not come."
"Thanks to the news from the Dark Angel." The Emperor said. He pulled the rosewood chair under him forward a short distance, sat down slowly, and placed his hands quietly on the edge of the table.
"Yes, for strategic reasons, Leon El'Jonson shared with Perturabo the signals of Randan's attack that he had obtained from his own sources - he even skipped Horus Lupe Karl, contact the Iron Lord directly.”
"Where do their conflicts come from?" Malcador sighed, his old face tilted towards the Lord of Humanity, as if he meant something.
The Emperor picked up a retired Luna Wolf chess piece on the low table next to him, played with it in his hands, and carefully observed the painting level of craftsman Morse.
“In short, after the corresponding changes in deployment plans, the Iron Warriors are ready to hold on.
"They first strengthened the use of bunkers in the natural environment of this galaxy, and then mobilized a destroyer fleet from the surrounding area - I know this looks like a group of Kratos tanks on this table, as well as a reserve force The aircraft - here referred to by the god Aetos (tos Dios) - focused a large amount of firepower on section 56 in order to thwart the enemy's plot in the defense.
"Since the characteristics of each Randan Angel family are different, we cannot calculate the accurate enemy configuration. Therefore, Perturabo chose a set of the most reliable configuration strategy, giving priority to consuming the enemy's attack power, and then turning to the attack. , to crush the enemy’s family group.”
"Another victory for the Iron Warriors," the Emperor said, his words laced with expected recognition.
"A very reliable legion, isn't it?" Morse couldn't help but smile and nodded towards Malcador.
The Imperial Prime Minister had to nod in agreement with a silent sigh. In recent years, Craftsman Morse's preference for the Iron Warriors has gradually lost the last trace of cover. Although this is reasonable, it is sometimes a bit sad.
"The Iron Warriors stood firm while the remaining three legions strengthened their firepower deployment in different directions after formulating the training plan. The main force marched to the north. The command post was located in the Vengeful Soul Command Hall, and the deputy commander was designated as Wandering Saint. "Tang," the emperor's lips inevitably showed some unnecessary movements after mentioning the special place inside Lorgar Aurelion's fleet, "The headquarters is designated as the Cheyuan in the rear."
"Anyone who is willing to make military suggestions can submit their ideas to the senior commanders of their respective legions. Finally, they will be integrated by several serving war blacksmiths and then presented to the desktop of the Primarch. The remaining ideas will be stored and kept in files." Sis said that the Luna Wolf chess piece in the Emperor's hand rose quietly under the tug of the golden runes, flew to the table, and joined his companions.
The Emperor did not stop him, but gave him a brief helpless look in return.
"As time went on, the cosmic tide in this star area changed to a certain extent, and both sides once again adjusted and assembled their troops. Another family of Randan Angels appeared, and their awareness of military deployment was stronger, which gave the imperial fleet more strength. The attack brought greater obstacles - not to mention that they had already penetrated too deep into the Ran Dan Empire.
"Whether there is a problem with the supply line, which does not necessarily require Ran Dan's alien action, or a large-scale attack in a certain strategic direction, it may cause part of the military strength to be crushed, and then the advantage of the entire situation will gradually shift to Ran Dan's side. tilt.
"At the same time, through the exchange of information and high-intensity exchanges, our three legions: the Luna Wolves, the Word Bearers and the Iron Warriors, have also discovered the existence of a family of Silver Angels, but have not yet determined the other party's identity. Purpose and behavioral logic.”
Some Silver Angels that were crushed in previous simulations reappeared on the table as phantoms, and were destroyed in the void war with the relentless artillery fire of the Imperial fleet.
This is the most mobile unit on the entire table, but it is also the model with the weakest armor. Even though they seem to be wearing a silver carapace, it later turns out to be just some kind of crystal-like decoration rather than actual protection. A structure.
"Beautiful hapless guy, huh," Morse shrugged. "Some unkind comparisons come to mind, but I would never describe them in front of you."
"You'd better say so, Morse," the Emperor said.
"Well, I think the silver is more pleasing to the eye than the previous gray and yellow paint," Morse replied, "That's what you asked, my lord."
In the shadow of the fallen hood, Malcador assessed Morse's words, trying to discern whether they contained any hidden hints of mercy or intercession.
The attempt failed on his part, and as for the Emperor, the Lord of Mankind simply said: "Your taste is confusing."
Morse shrugged his shoulders, took out a golden-skinned chess piece holding a power hammer, and then a Primarch chess piece with blond hair like a lion's mane, and raised them above the table.
"Lorgar Aurelion approached Leon El'Jonson without hesitation and raised a serious question: The paths of the Dark Angel and the Silver Angel should have intersected many times, but why did they never hear from Leon? Heard the wind?
"His questions contained more confusion than questioning, but Leon still appeared deeply offended, and his displeasure aroused Aurelion's dissatisfaction. This time, Horus adjusted the relationship between the two and told They must put the Emperor's will first."
"Horus," the Emperor repeated Horus' name.
"Yes, Horus, he was hurt by Leon's words for half a year, but people have to move forward - oh, sorry, he is the original gene," Morse put down the original chess piece and said Walk around the table until you reach the side of the long table and continue the narrative.
"Leon promised that he would share more information and further stated that this was what he intended to do and was not forced to do so by any Primarch. Regardless, no one ever questioned his abilities or his influence on Keeping his promise, Dark Angel's record, even if full of doubts, still won the respect of his brothers. "
"After that, battles continued to unfold one after another, and the logic of the Dark Angels' behavior changed somewhat - they returned to large-scale legion operations and no longer traveled through the subspace, as if they were affected by some kind of void. Guidelines."
Morse stretched out his hand, drew a new deployment line on the side of the long table, and redeployed all the Dark Angels behind the new deployment line.
A few years ago, during a break from work, he and Magnus finalized the rules of this war chess game and gradually improved them in subsequent updates. And Morse tends to believe that it doesn't hurt to let go of the rules sometimes.
"But they seem to be intending to attack concentrically in a certain direction in order to eliminate a specific family line. The Iron Warriors cooperated with them to establish deep echelon defenses in important directions, and the troops gathered in areas that are more likely to be threatened. "
On the table, as Morse narrated, the Space Marines' chess pieces moved closer and closer to the Randan alien backfield, and the casualties on both sides became more obvious.
Even as both players continued to add more pieces to the table through means beyond the rules, using verbal narration to emphasize the new attributes and different aura abilities of each model unit, the pieces representing the dead on the low table next to them continued to accumulate rapidly, overlapping each other and lying in the bright light of light gold within the palace.
“This is where we are now, Malcador.” Morse bowed to the Imperial Chancellor with a formality and exaggerated manner, indicating that he had completed the introduction task, and then fell back comfortably into the rattan soft chair, folded his hands together, and looked at the new chess player with interest.
Malcador stroked his fingers on the scepter and sighed softly.
“The game continues,” the Emperor said, sending his reminder, standing up from the rosewood chair and returning to the chess table.
Malcador had to take Morse’s place. The Emperor and Morse's deduction had already simulated a time point close to reality, and the round had reached the fifth round. Even if he had not yet received the latest war report, the remaining few decisions could not be difficult to infer based on the military strength and character of the Primarchs.
Strengthened defense or attack orders, the use of cover on the table, moving, charging, shooting, carefully adjusting the direction of each army's advance, Malcador and the Emperor were focused on this game.
"There are no mission rules," Morse suddenly said, casually sending a cold reminder, "The only chance of winning is to clear all the opponent's troops from the table."
The Imperial Chancellor met the eyes of the Lord of Mankind, and then he put the scepter against the long table, and the wings of the Sky Eagle rested on the edge of the table.
The Chancellor calculated the theory of probability and numbers - not only the probability of this dice game, but also the probability of the Emperor using unique orders.
He believed that the Emperor would not use enhanced measures to expand the invasion field of Randan, but that was a mistake. A group of Silver Angels appeared on the side of the Space Marines without coordinating with the Dark Angels; due to the existence of the One-Inch Principle, Malcador had to consider how to destroy them in advance.
The best mobile force was the Dark Angels, and the Prime Minister pushed a team of Ravenwing motorcycles forward to take the lives of the Silver Angels.
When he realized what he had done, Malcador couldn't help but raise his head and observe the Emperor's expression.
He found that the other party became more focused and focused on the situation on the table. His dark fingers with neatly manicured nails were set off by each bright chess piece.
The Emperor looked at this wide table with the Milky Way as the background, and his next decision was still the movement of the Silver Angels - in order to gain the bonus of rapid-fire combos, another team of Silver Angels approached the other Randan families on the front line, but this also exposed them to the sight of Lion El'Jonson and other legions.
The Silver Angels did not approach the Space Marines, but they were within six inches of the Dark Angels; if they exploded after death, the team members with insufficient health would be killed with enough fatal injuries.
Moreover...
After a reverse move, Malcador announced the shooting of the Silver Angels again.
When he made this decision, he found that his heart twitched quietly, but the Dark Angels had already opened fire, burying the evidence of their secret communication with the alien existence in the beam of ions in front of the other three legions.
"One step closer to victory, Malcador," Morse said aside, "clear all enemies, respected Prime Minister. I believe this will also be the choice of the Dark Angels. The core is approaching, and it is time to exterminate unnecessary collaborators. After all," he smiled, "they have exchanged fire twice."
Malcador glanced at the middle of the chessboard again, even though there was nothing there... No. There used to be a statue of an angel there.
The Emperor abandoned the strict restrictions of rounds and phases. More Randan Angels surrounded from different directions, staring outside the line occupied by the Iron Warriors with squads, preparing for the next round of attack. The Silver Angels were also selected from the reserve team and infiltrated into the limited battlefield in the no-man's land. Malcador seemed to be able to see the Iron Warriors' observation and guidance duties running around, the void station defense was organized, and the engineering work was non-stop. Everything was based on a precise mathematical calculation model; the Word Bearers' legions poured into the front line in large numbers, while the Shadow Moon Wolves and Dark Angels performed every fatal mission. The universe trembled in silence, explosions roared in the void, and the bombardment of heavy artillery and the vibration of the engine were like a torrential rain that Terra had not seen in many years, hitting the vast black universe. "Shoot." The Emperor spoke, and his choice was beyond Malcador's expectation. "Power 12, a group of 36 attacks, against the Flame Wing." In the end, the Silver Angel still aimed at the Dark Angel. "My Lord?" Malcador asked quietly, his expression becoming more serious.
The Emperor looked at him and nodded softly, a smile crossing his face. Under the circumstances, it was a cold encouragement.
"Of course they would, Chancellor," Morse said, holding a paper tome and a thin golden pen in his hands, without looking up. "If the Second Legion had been willing to be slaughtered, the Silver Angels would never have existed in the first place."
"Go on, Malcador," the Emperor said, his tone so calm, but Malcador had seen the choice that Lion El'Jonson would make - this was undoubtedly what Morse had prepared from the beginning, but the craftsman had handed the final chance to the Sigillite.
"At the beginning of the battle, the Firewing's designated primary targets included the Silver Angels," the Imperial Chancellor said, repeating the military ceremony that Morse had set for the Dark Angels at the beginning of the battle, "so I gain one to hit result."
He then pushed the Firewing team with Lion El'Jonson's model forward, and after an easy charge roll, locked the Silver Angel in close combat.
"At the same time, I gain a boost of one attack," Malcador announced, his voice lowered. "Lion El'Jonson saw the advantage, and he chose to march."
The Emperor raised his hand, and the psychic energy lingered like a trickle, suddenly brushing across the table, wiping out the models of the Silver Angel and the Firewing like flying ash.
"According to the rules, we will perish together." The Emperor said, lowering his eyes.
"My Lord?" Malcador's heart beat faster, a shaky feeling hit his nerves. He opened his mouth and found that his words became less controlled. "Really..."
"Hey, Emperor!" Morse shouted dissatisfiedly, "You can't just turn it into a pile of ashes just because it's not a model you painted with your own hands."
Malcador turned his head and subconsciously looked at the craftsman who had sat up straight in the rattan chair, trying to discern whether Morse was really confused or puzzled, or even some other emotions, or just like him and the Emperor, talking about some topics and joking.
He didn't get an answer. Morse's face did not have any extra expression, and he didn't know when the notebook and pen in his hand were put away.
When the Imperial Chancellor turned his sight again, the wooden chair opposite the long table was empty.