Chapter 59: Monsters

On the planet Organa, Dukel was leading an expeditionary corps, quietly lurking in this world.

"What? Have you found the location of the Bonebreaker army?" The Primarch's tone carried genuine surprise.

Finally, they had found it.

Dukel could barely contain his anticipation. The boredom of the mission had been excruciating.

Organa, a massive planet with an area three to five times that of Terra, demanded patience. To successfully delay the enemy, the first step for the expeditionary force was locating the Bonebreaker Warlord's army—without being exposed.

In a world so vast, finding the trajectory of a legion was no simple task. Even with advanced Imperial detection equipment, much of the effort revolved around traversing the planet's diverse landscapes.

The reconnaissance efforts did not require Dukel's direct involvement. Consequently, he found himself observing the scenery along the way—rainforests, deserts, oceans, swamps—each terrain a picturesque snapshot of Organa's natural beauty. Under different circumstances, such sights might be appreciated for their unique charm.

But now? Who had the time for this?

Dukel's purpose was to ignite the skies with the flames of war, to soak alien soil with rivers of their blood.

At last, the moment had come.

"I finally caught you, you green-skinned beasts," the Primarch muttered with exhilaration.

"Yes, Your Highness," Commissar Kane replied, relief evident in his tone. "We have finally tracked the Bonebreaker Warlord's location."

Kane hadn't expected the tracking process to be this arduous. By stereotype, orks were loud and boisterous, their positions obvious. But Bonebreaker had defied those assumptions, proving far more cunning than any ork Kane had encountered before.

What frustrated Kane even more was Dukel's persistent desire to deploy Exterminatus-level firepower against every minor ork tribe they passed.

There were billions of orks on Organa. The expeditionary corps, by contrast, numbered only 110,500 and lacked the resources for planetary-scale bombardment.

Convincing Dukel to temper his ambitions had been exhausting. Now, at least, they had a clear goal.

"Our next step is simple: disrupt the orks' consolidation and sow chaos," Kane suggested. "Your Highness, what are your orders?"

Dukel's eyes gleamed. "Orders? Of course!" He tore a piece of draft paper from his notes and scribbled something down.

Kane's initial skepticism quickly turned into surprise. Could this truly be a detailed plan? He leaned in to read it.

In bold, sweeping letters, the Primarch had written:

Find the enemy and destroy them all.

Kane: "..."

"Brothers, the enemy is ahead! For humanity! For the Imperium! Charge!" Dukel's voice roared over the comms.

Before Kane could protest, Space Marines loaded their bolters, chainswords growling to life. Krieg soldiers silently fixed bayonets.

"Your Highness," Kane interjected, "isn't our mission to delay the enemy?"

"Yes," Dukel agreed, nodding. "If we wipe out every alien on this planet, it'll delay them for centuries—not just three months."

Kane sighed in defeat. "Your Highness, do you know how many orks are on this world?"

"Just a few billion," Dukel replied confidently.

"And how many troops do we have?" Kane's voice trembled slightly.

"One hundred and ten thousand!" the Primarch declared. "Any other questions, Commissar?"

Kane buried his face in his hands. This was going to be a long campaign.

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Kane's attempts to dissuade Dukel proved futile. The Primarch's enthusiasm was unshakable.

Meanwhile, Krieg cavalry silently advanced, positioning themselves ahead of the main force. The guards accompanying Dukel followed closely, offering Kane wry smiles as they passed.

"This is how His Highness does things," one of them chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

On the other side of the battlefield, the Bonebreaker Warlord's forces marched forward.

Ork Stormboyz, tasked with reconnaissance, soon spotted a lone figure—a black dot against the horizon.

"What's that?" one muttered.

As the figure grew larger, its features became clear. A man, clad in armor bearing the unmistakable double-headed Aquila of the Imperium, strode toward them.

"An 'umie?" another sneered. "And he's alone? Hah!"

Underestimating the approaching figure would be their last mistake.

Within moments, the lone warrior closed the distance with terrifying speed. What had been kilometers was reduced to mere meters in the blink of an eye. Then—impact.

The resulting explosion of force obliterated the Stormboyz before they could react. The survivors, bloodied and stunned, gazed up at Dukel, now standing amidst the wreckage.

To their eyes, warped by the Waaagh! field, the Primarch appeared as a colossal, god-like figure—a monster whose terrifying visage dwarfed anything they had ever faced.

...

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