"Have the Restorers already arrived by our side?"
All the elite warriors were left somewhat dazed by Xiandel's words. After all, the Restorers were the ones chosen by the gods, a presence akin to the "God Clan." Even the captain of the guard, named Ripa, showed no signs of grief or rage after the death of the Forlorn Prophet.
The guards had already been torn, and when Xiandel acted and the "God's Envoy" Appu intervened to persuade them, they completely abandoned any notion of blind loyalty. The three prophets' secret discussions on the island in the middle of the lake had thoroughly worn down the loyalty of the Honor Guard.
After all, they had been stationed nearby, ensuring safety, only to realize that the prophets were plotting how to expel the Sangheili from the Covenant, even to the point of exterminating them. Though the guards were loyal, they weren't foolish beyond redemption.
As their leader, Ripa was the first to lower his energy spear and kneel before Appu on one knee, declaring reverently, "Ripa Moramee, at your service, for the God's Envoy and the Restorers!"
"We serve the God's Envoy and the Restorers!" All the Honor Guards followed suit, kneeling in unison and echoing the pledge.
"I am merely an artificial intelligence," Appu said indifferently, still maintaining his calm tone, before turning to Xiandel and adding, "Before the true Restorers arrive, Captain Rosser, I trust you'll maintain order and manage your internal affairs."
At these words, the elite councilor wearing a golden crown became visibly wary. Other councilors shared the same unease, their eyes fixed on Xiandel. Becoming a councilor implied that they had their own political insights and a desire to maintain their grip on power. Few were willing to disrupt the status quo and surrender their authority.
However, Xiandel ignored what the councilors might be thinking. To him, once "my master" arrived, all power struggles would be irrelevant. Thus, he stated plainly, "Our first priority is to expose the ugly truth about the prophets to all the people.
Second, we must take control of the city of Benevolence and the defense fleet, ensuring that the situation remains under our control before the Restorer descends.
Lastly, we'll coordinate with the remaining forces from our homeworld to deal with the Jiralhanae occupying the Empire's key strongholds."
During Vadam and Artas' visit, Xiandel had already hinted for his two friends to return home and warn their elders and clans to be on guard against the Covenant, the prophets, and the Jiralhanae. Yet Xiandel hadn't anticipated that Appu's copied data would reveal the prophets' secret meeting to the public, including the truths of the Forlorn, Penitent, and Merciful Prophets.
Though this move was beyond Xiandel's original plan, it undeniably provided them with significant advantages. Now, all that was needed was for Foggrym, Angron, and Leman to enter the city of Benevolence and help eradicate the remnants of the prophets.
A few hours later, outside the city of Benevolence:
The 3rd fleet, which was supposed to be monitoring Xiandel's fleet, voluntarily broke off its blockade and joined a massive "naval battle" involving thousands of warships. Plasma cannons, in brilliant shades of blue, purple, and pink, streaked across the dark and cold void of space.
Boom! Boom!
Silent explosions of warships lit up the cold reaches of space. Meanwhile, the High Council's broadcast had resumed, though it had shifted from the initial trial of Xiandel to the interrogation of the prophets of Truth and Mercy.
When the prophets' treachery and secret discussions were exposed, the entire Sangheili race was infuriated. They immediately organized their forces and launched a violent purge of the prophets and Jiralhanae.
The Jiralhanae, realizing that they had been specially groomed by the prophets, took up the role of protecting the surviving prophets in the city and tried to suppress the uprising sparked by the Sangheili. Though the fighting appeared intense, the situation was clearly one-sided.
The Sangheili controlled over 80% of the defense fleet. In terms of numbers, the Jiralhanae, loyal to the prophets, were already at a disadvantage. Furthermore, their naval combat skills and experience paled in comparison to the Sangheili, and they were utterly outmatched.
Only on the ground, within the city of Benevolence, did the Jiralhanae manage to make use of their numbers and physical strength to hold the upper hand. The ever-opportunistic Kig-Yar, seeing the Jiralhanae gaining an advantage on the ground, decided to flee.
They had no interest in dying for the Sangheili, the Jiralhanae, or the prophets. In the midst of the chaos, they seized the opportunity to loot vast amounts of wealth and commandeer various ships docked at the port, making a quick escape via slipspace to flee from the battlefield.
At this point, the Kig-Yar were only focused on survival, waiting for the Sangheili or the Jiralhanae to offer them a price for their services in the next stage of the war.
The Unggoy under the command of the Jiralhanae, however, faced a grim fate. Lacking the quick-wittedness of the Kig-Yar, they were forced into combat against the Sangheili. Meanwhile, those Unggoy who had sided with the Sangheili were filled with zeal. Some even charged forward with plasma grenades, choosing to die alongside the towering Jiralhanae.
What the Jiralhanae failed to notice was that Xiandel's CCS-class flagship had already broken through and was heading straight for Dock One of the city of Benevolence.
Inside Dock One, under the vast "canopy" structure:
The space was enormous, with the cold void of space outside separated by a shimmering blue plasma gate. Several CCS-class battle cruisers undergoing repairs were docked there, alongside a CAS-class assault carrier, over five kilometers long.
Boom! Boom!
Deafening explosions echoed through the port. The sound of plasma rifles and fuel rod cannons filled the air.
"Seize the carrier! Protect the prophets!"
"Curse you, Sangheili! Die!"
Thousands of Jiralhanae were escorting a group of prophets, their faces contorted with panic, toward the boarding bridge of the CAS-class carrier. The Kig-Yar, sensing an opportunity, detoured away from the carrier and set their sights on the CCS-class cruisers instead.
"Don't run, cowards!"
"Traitors! You disgraceful scum!"
Over a hundred young, impulsive Sangheili clad in blue armor led their combat squads in a fierce pursuit of the Jiralhanae and prophets. Some Kig-Yar, still following the orders of their Sangheili squad leaders, joined in the chase.
However, everything came to an abrupt halt when Xiandel's flagship crashed through, slamming into the rear engines of the CAS-class carrier.
Boom!
The massive carrier was jolted off course, crashing into the port's platform, causing many of the Jiralhanae and prophets to stumble and fall.
The collision also caused the CAS-class carrier to lose the support of the port's gravitational field, sending it plummeting into the lower cargo area of the dock. This ended any hope the Jiralhanae had of escaping the city of Benevolence with the carrier.
As the dust settled, Xiandel's flagship successfully docked. Its hangar bay doors opened, extending a metal walkway to the port platform.
Roar!
The remaining Jiralhanae turned their weapons toward the opened hangar doors, ready to fight, but before they could react—
Boom! Boom!
The sound of magnetized boots echoed as armored figures stepped onto the platform, followed by the deafening sound of heavy-caliber explosive weapons unloading bursts of fire.
Boom! Boom!
The distinct explosions of explosive bolts rang out across Dock One, followed by the grisly sounds of bodies being torn apart.
The Jiralhanae, lacking energy shields, were helpless against the onslaught of high-caliber explosive rounds, and they fell in rows, torn apart by the deadly projectiles.
Only then did the Jiralhanae realize that the "enemies" emerging from Xiandel's CCS-class flagship weren't the Sangheili combat squads they had expected. Instead, they were facing a group of towering "giants" clad in unfamiliar power armor, with their helmet visors glowing ominously.
From the perspective of the Unggoy and Kig-Yar, these armored figures were like giants. In reality, they were young Astartes warriors, equipped with advanced combat suits, titanium armor, and cold fusion-powered backpacks.
Their power armor was primarily black, with red-yellow, green-white, or blue-yellow accents to distinguish their respective chapters, which included the Blood Angels, Dark Angels, and Sons of Horus.
These 16- and 17-year-old Astartes, after receiving gene-seed implants from different Primarchs, had undergone a rapid transformation. Their physical capabilities had reached astonishing levels, with an average height exceeding two meters. Their strength far surpassed that of genetically-enhanced soldiers, though their combat experience was still lacking.
Despite being in the process of undergoing further enhancements, these young Astartes were more than capable of wielding explosive weapons with deadly precision, thanks to their armor's assistance and their enhanced reflexes.
"Counterattack! Counterattack!"
"Deploy bubble shields!"
The Jiralhanae, though under heavy assault, maintained their
morale and began to fight back. Many veteran Jiralhanae hurled grenade-like devices to the ground, generating hexagonal energy shields around them.
Boom! Boom!
These faintly glowing "bubble shields" successfully blocked the incoming explosive rounds, providing the Jiralhanae with a brief respite. However, these shields were only a temporary solution, used exclusively by veteran Jiralhanae.
Though the shields held back the firepower, their flaw was soon apparent. After only 20 seconds, the energy shields dissipated, leaving the Jiralhanae exposed once again to the relentless barrage of explosive rounds.
By this time, the Astartes warriors had already closed the distance, advancing in full force onto the platform.
In the midst of this chaos—
"Hahaha! Finally, a good fight!"
Standing at four meters tall, Leman strode across the metal walkway with ease, stepping onto the platform. The Primarch removed his helmet, revealing his thick beard and wild, golden hair.
Placing his right hand on the hilt of his sword, Leman addressed the Sangheili in their native tongue with a booming voice: "Listen up, Sangheili! We are the so-called Restorers. Watch your fire, and don't hit your allies, or I'll personally feed you some explosive rounds!"
His voice, infused with psychic power, echoed throughout Dock One.
At the same time, Leman drew the sword of Winter, crafted for him by Samuel Young, and charged into the Jiralhanae's defensive line.
"Kill him!"
"Where is he? I can't see him!"
"Suppressing fire! Suppressing fire!"
The Jiralhanae couldn't even track Leman as he moved like a blur, while the young Astartes continued to decimate their forces, leaving them unable to mount an effective counterattack.
In the blink of an eye, Leman was already within their ranks. As he stopped, preparing to swing the sword of Winter, the Jiralhanae finally caught sight of his massive frame—only to be met with the sight of their comrades being torn apart.
Shing!
Slash!
With ease, Leman cut through the stunned Jiralhanae, leaving a trail of blood and flesh in the air.
In the distance, the Sangheili who had been watching in disbelief were equally frozen in place.
One red-armored Sangheili, opening his four-jawed mouth in awe, remarked, "Is that the legendary god?"
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