XXXI

"By Russ, how long have we been fighting?" a Space Wolf growled, his deep, feral voice carrying over the battlefield as he cleaved a Dark Eldar in half.

"Bah!" Another laughed, tearing the head from a xenos warrior with a savage swing. "How would I know? Feels like a damned eternity!"

Around them, the torn and mangled bodies of the Dark Eldar lay in heaps, none left whole. The battlefield was a grisly testament to the savagery of the fight. The remaining Space Wolves fought with their usual ferocity, their chainblades howling as they carved through the enemy. But even they had suffered losses.

Occasionally, fallen Space Wolves could be seen among the wreckage, thier armor rent apart by xenos weapons. Yet there was no time to mourn, not yet. The Dark Eldar still lurked in the shadows, waiting for any sign of weakness.

As the fight continue, the Dark Eldar continue to lurk in the shadow, testing the Wolves from the dark. While the Wolves use their hyper-acute senses of hearing and smell to sniff out the Dark Eldar. A game of predator and prey had begun, but neither side was willing to admit which they were.

Though the Dark Eldar managed to wound some of them, the Space Wolves inflicted a heavier toll upon the Dark Eldar.

Then, the vox crackled to life. A voice cut through the static.

"This is Supreme Grand Master Atharion of the Dark Knights. Hold your ground, sons of Russ. Reinforcements are inbound."

A chorus of howl rose from the Space Wolves as they march out to attack the Dark Eldar with renew ferociousty, bolstered by the promise of aid.

From above, the sky rumbled with the thunder of engines. Moments later, dark shapes broke through the thick clouds, a Stormbird and a squadron of Thunderhawks, their hulls painted in the midnight black of the Dark Knights. Trails of fire followed them as they descended toward the battlefield.

Heavy bolter fire raked the battlefield, cutting down dozens of xenos in a storm of explosive rounds. Some of the Thunderhawks lowered their ramps, and from within emerged the Javelin Land Speeders of the 2nd Company, their engines roaring as they shot forward.

Moving like swift predators, the Javelins weaved through the battlefield, their twin-linked assault cannons tears through the Dark Eldar with ease. While their missile launchers rained death upon clustered enemies, either obliterating them in fiery explosions or forcing them out of cover, only to be cut down by the relentless assault cannon fire.

With the ground clear, the Stormbird and remaining Thunderhawks landed, their ramps lowering with a hiss of hydraulics. From within, squads of Astar disembarked in perfect sync, bolters at the ready. Among them, twelve Scimitar Jetbikes roared to life, their engines growling like caged beasts as they surged forward in a blur of speed and firepower.

The Scimitars' built-in heavy bolters and plasma guns fired with deadly accuracy, cutting down Dark Eldar warriors in controlled bursts. Those who survived the volleys found themselves impaled by the power lances wielded by the riders, their bodies cast aside like broken dolls as the jetbikes sped past.

The battle quickly became a one-sided massacre. The Dark Eldar, once the hunters, now found themselves prey. Just like those they had tormented before, they too felt the terror of being outmatched, outgunned, and relentlessly pursued.

Their speed, once their greatest advantage, now meant little against the Dark Knights' overwhelming firepower and coordination. Javelins flushed them out from cover with pinpoint missile strikes, while the Scimitar Jetbikes hunted them down in the open, their power lances piercing fleeing xenos with ruthless efficiency.

As the Javelin and the Scimitar doing their job, Atharion have meetup with the Space Wolves, while still eager for battle, but unfortunately didn't have the vehicles to chase after the running Dark Eldar.

"Brothers, it is good to see you!" A booming voice rang out as a towering figure approached. "I am Harald Firetooth, Wolf Lord of the Firetooth Great Company."

Atharion inclined his head. "I am Atharion, Supreme Grand Master of the Dark Knights."

Before he could say more, Harald let out a deep laugh and pulled him into a crushing embrace. Atharion stiffened for a brief moment before returning the gesture.

"Hahahahaha!" Harald laugh as he pat Atharion back. "Don't be so stiff, brother."

Atharion exhaled, shaking his head. "A habit, Harald. Not all of us are as... spirited as the sons of Russ."

Harald continue to laugh for a short time, then he look at Atharion, still with a smile on his face.

"You arrived just in time, brother." Harald said, though his smile soured slightly. "While I don't doubt my brothers' ability, without vehicles and heavy weapons, we would have been hard-pressed to break free, let alone chase those knife-eared cowards down."

Atharion smirked as Harald finished speaking because, despite the Space Wolves' words, their attention was no longer on the retreating Dark Eldar. Instead, every single one of them was staring at the Javelins and Scimitars that had torn through the xenos ranks with ruthless efficiency. Even Harald, for all his bravado, couldn't help but steal glances at the sleek jetbikes behind Atharion.

After all, while the Space Wolves were not known for their love of technology, they were still warriors who understood the value of powerful war machines. And even if they lacked the deeper knowledge of the Mechanicus, they still had records, records that told them that jetbikes of this type should not exist in such numbers.

"How about we continue our conversation after we finish off the Dark Eldar, Harald?" Atharion said, gesturing toward the newly arrived Javelins and Scimitars being unloaded from the Thunderhawks.

Harald raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued, but his eyes widened slightly when he noticed the war machines were painted in the colors of the Space Wolves. The sight was enough to make even the most battle-hardened warriors among his company pause.

"You prepared these for us?" Harald asked, his voice carrying both amusement and something more, genuine appreciation.

Atharion smile a little. "Yes, the moment I hear that the Space Wolves have come to deal with the Dark Eldar, I have prepared all of this with all the necessary adjustments. Consider it as a gift, Harald."

Harald let out a booming laugh. "Hah! A fine gift for a warrior!" Harald clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a mortal man.

His grin was as wild as ever, he turn towards his company, raising his voice. "Mount up, sons of Russ! Let's show these knife-eared cowards what happens when they cross the sons of Russ!"

As the Space Wolves mounted their newly gifted Scimitars and Javelins, Atharion strode toward his own personal Scimitar, his honor guard moving beside him.

Unlike other chapters where honor guards were a small, ceremonial unit, Atharion's honor guard had grown into three distinct units, almost forming a personal company akin to the Salamanders' 1st Company. The first group, clad in Terminator armor, served as his shield, unyielding in battle, forming an impenetrable wall against any who dared strike at Atharion. The second, armored in finely wrought power armor, served as his sword, striking with speed and precision to carve through enemy lines. Third is the battle-automata, a copy of Perturabo Iron Circle. Its compose of battle-automata that form with a new variant of Domitar class robot that Atharion design himself. But, because of it's complexity, the battle-automata haven't put into production, so the third unit.

As Atharion and his honor guards mounted the Scimitar, the Space Wolves already started to play with their new vehicles. Touching and revving the machine to see how they work and capable for, and by the look of their face and the howl that they make occasionally, Atharion think that they like the gift he give.

Harald pulled up beside him, his Scimitar growling like a caged beast as he continuously revved the engine.

"Hahahahaha! This is one of the best gifts I've ever received!"

Atharion smirked beneath his helmet. "Then try not to break it before we finish the hunt, Harald."

"I can't give you any promises, brother." Harald finished with another laugh, then turned toward his warriors, raising his Frost Axe high.

"Come on, sons of Russ! Time to show those cowards who they're messing with!"

With that, he gunned his Scimitar's engine and shot forward, a blur of motion as he led the charge.

The Space Wolves let out a chorus of howls, their war cries echoing through the battlefield as they followed, their jetbikes kicking up dust and debris. The Javelins weaved between ruined structures, their assault cannons already spinning up, while the Scimitars roared down the open roads, hunting down the fleeing Dark Eldar with ruthless efficiency.

Atharion followed close behind, his honor guard flanking him in perfect formation. Their blades and bolters were ready. This was a hunt, and the Dark Eldar would find no escape.

The hunt went on for three days, with the Dark Eldar finding no escape. The Space Wolves and Dark Knights chased them down, showing no mercy.

Some Dark Eldar made it to their ships and tried to flee, their sleek craft rising into the sky in desperation. But they were too slow. Nephilim Jetfighters, patrolling above, swooped down and tore them apart with lascannon fire and missiles. The sky lit up with explosions as one ship after another was destroyed.

The few who got past the jetfighters had no hope either. The Dark Knights' fleet, still waiting in orbit, was ready. The moment the xenos ships left the atmosphere, lance batteries and torpedoes struck them down. Burning wreckage rained from the sky, the once-feared raiders now nothing but debris.

On the world, laughter erupted among the warriors of Fenris. The Space Wolves, bloodied and victorious, gathered in groups, roaring in celebration. Some held up war trophies, severed xenos heads, shattered weapons, or pieces of grotesque Dark Eldar armor. Their fangs gleamed in the firelight as they boasted of their kills.

"Hahahahaha!" One of the Wolves, his face smeared with blood, raised the broken remains of a Dark Eldar helm. "This one tried to run! Didn't get far before I took his head!"

Another warrior howled in amusement, slamming a fist against his chest. "Bah! I tore the spine out of their leader! No xeno screams like a Drukhari when you rip them apart with your bare hands!"

The Dark Knights stood apart, watching the Wolves' revelry with measured silence. They didn't boast their victory in public, as for them, it's just another mission. Nearby, sergeants of the 2nd Company formed a circle around Atharion and Gideon, delivering verbal after-action reports. Their voices were calm and efficient, detailing the final kill counts, enemy movements, and any losses sustained.

Atharion nodded as the sergeants finished their reports. "You all have done well." He said with a cold voice. "Ensure all the fallen are retrieved, and erase any trace of our presence on this world."

"Your will." The sergeants acknowledged in unison before dispersing to carry out their orders.

Gideon also turned to follow his company, intending to personally oversee the retrieval efforts. The battle was won, but their work was far from over.

As Atharion turned toward the Space Wolves, he saw Harald already approaching, a rare, non-feral smile on his face.

"Brother," Harald said, his voice carrying a satisfied growl. "Thanks to your gift, I can feel a new thrill in the hunt." He chuckled, rolling his shoulders as if testing something unseen. "I might think I can't feel the same without these..."

Before Atharion could respond, Harald continued with a booming laugh. "Hahahahaha! I can already imagine the faces of the others when they see these relics in my hands!"

Atharion raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "If they want the Javelin or the Scimitar, I can provide an entire company's worth." He said. "But with such numbers, I can't simply give them away as gifts."

Harald's eyes gleamed at Atharion's words. "Ah, so you want something in return, then?" he mused, stroking his beard. "But what could we possibly offer you, Atharion?" He gestured toward the transport site, where Javelins and Scimitars were being prepared for loading. "You know as well as I do, Fenris, for all its worth, holds little of value. My home is harsh, wild, and untamed. There's nothing there fit to match even one of these machines."

Atharion smile a little. "There's actually something that value that fit these machines, or even surpassed them by my account." This grab the attention of Harald, he look at Atharion with a puzzled and curious look. "The Helfrost crystal."

Harald's expression shifted from amusement to intrigue, his brows furrowing slightly. "The Helfrost crystal?" he repeated, his voice carrying a note of surprise. "Now that is something I did not expect to hear from you, brother."

Atharion nodded. "Indeed. I only found out the crystal when one of my company found one of the Helfrost weapon on a ancient battlefield." He continue. "My Techmarines and I extracted the crystal and repurposed it as a cooling system for some of our equipment. The results were remarkable."

Harald's face soured slightly at the mention of the ancient weapon being dismantled, but he said nothing. Atharion, noticing the shift in expression, spoke calmly.

"We did not destroy it lightly, brother." He assured. "At the time, we did not know its origins. Only after further study did we realize that the crystal was unique, and later, when we found the remains of one of your kin on the same battlefield, it became clear that the weapon must have been of Fenrisian make."

Harald exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. "Aye, if it bore a Helfrost crystal, then it was indeed one of ours." His voice was thoughtful, the earlier irritation fading. "To think it was lost for so long… and now reforged into something else." He let out a low chuckle. "The Iron Priests would grumble at your tampering, but if it bore 'great results,' as you say, then perhaps there's wisdom in your meddling."

Atharion allowed a small smile. "It has indeed yielded great results. With the enhanced cooling system, our Terminator armor is now faster and more agile, as we can equip them with more powerful generators without the risk of overheating."

As he spoke, a servo-skull drifted into view, its optics glowing as it projected a series of data streams. Schematics, performance reports, and combat test results flickered in the air, detailing the modifications and their impact on the Dark Knights' equipment.

Harald's eyes gleamed with interest, his earlier amusement replaced by deep contemplation. He stroked his beard as he studied the data, his mind no doubt racing with possibilities. Perhaps he was wondering why the Iron Priests had not thought of such an application before.

Harald stopped stroking his beard and looked directly at Atharion. "Well," he said, his voice thoughtful. "If all that you've shown me is true, then perhaps the Wolf Lord might indeed be willing to trade the crystals with you."

Atharion smiled at the response. "That would be a most welcome outcome."

Just as Atharion finished speaking, the deep roar of engines filled the air. Stormbirds and multiple Thunderhawks descended from the sky, their powerful thrusters kicking up clouds of dust and debris as they approached.