Chapter 475 Sorrow
The Iron Warriors carried out the extermination war in an orderly manner. Facing these civilians who had no power to resist, their steps were as light as students on a spring outing.
A group of citizens were shackled and chained, and were dragged forward by the war blacksmiths. They would be the slave laborers used to fill the legion. A woman was crying on the road, holding a crushed corpse in her arms. Judging from the shape and size, it should be her child who was hit by the bomb.
Perturabo could hear the wailing of the whole city in the war, but when his attention was focused on the individuals suffering in the city, he could not hear any sound.
That's right, all this was just a scene he simulated based on his memory. He had never noticed it before. No matter how much he simulated and reproduced it, he could not show things he had never remembered.
So what was all this for? Redemption or torture?
Perturabo looked at the molten metal and flames, emptied his spirit, became desireless, and there was only a heavy meaning on his face.
"I am them. They are me."
Perturabo thought of Horus and the Emperor. He thought he would be respected and recognized if he switched to another team, but he ended up working endlessly.
During the long war of the siege of Terra, the Alpha Legion had been fanning the flames. No one knew whether they were truly traitors or loyal.
Angron, the fool with a muddled brain, showed his slave side to the fullest. He was the dumbest and stupidest in all the offensive battles.
So what if he became a demon? He was still beaten into a pool of immovable meat paste under the artillery fire.
Fulgrim. That was even more of a heavyweight. The originally glorious Emperor's children had degenerated into a group of drug addicts. They were not even as useful as the brainless World Eaters.
They would only develop twisted gameplay that Perturabo hated under the drive of desire, and Perturabo's invitation to them was always to stuff the extinction cannon into their dermatitis.
He still remembered that the captain of the Emperor's Children came to him to discuss the battle situation, asking if they could draw 6.66 million slaves from the reserves to create a pleasure array.
Perturabo asked, can this array help the legion destroy the empire?
The captain of the Emperor's Children replied, what about destroying the empire? Destroy what empire?
Perturabo, who could no longer bear it, finally stuffed this captain of the Emperor's Children, whose mind was full of pleasure and indulgence, into the cannonball and shot it at the wall of Terra.
Death Guard. They have no problem, but like the Word Bearers legion, they have a useless leader.
As for Horus. When he thought of Horus, Perturabo was so angry that his teeth itched. That bastard actually wanted to dismantle his legion and asked him to do dirty work like the shitty Emperor.
No one can order me to do anything! No one can!
"Hahaha." Perturabo laughed softly a few times. He remembered how he had left Horus's legion with an unforgettable memory for a lifetime. He really didn't know how they struggled in the artillery fire.
Shit glorious legion! Shit warmaster! Eat shit in the cannon fodder and mud!
This pleasure lasted for a while, and then was filled with emptiness. Perturabo fell into silence, waiting for the end of the simulated memory program.
The sky became dim, as if Perturabo had been standing here for a day.
A team of terminators approached Perturabo cautiously, and Captain Fricks reported the situation to the Lord of Steel.
"My Lord." He said, "The resistance has been wiped out. We have taken all those who are suitable for service into the slave camp. We are testing qualified young people to join the legion. We are eliminating four-fifths of the population. The 29th Battalion is setting up a warning pile."
Perturabo didn't speak. He knew what the warning pile was. A hill of bones, suppressing the resistance of the loser with despair and fear.
Perturabo raised his hand and signaled Fricks to shut up. He didn't really want to listen to the captain's words, not because he was dissatisfied with what he did, but because he knew that Fricks was just a ghost in the simulation.
"Is that it? Don't you have anything else to say?"
"My Lord." Fricks knelt on the ground, and the other Terminators knelt down together. "Is there anything missing? It has far exceeded the mission target."
"But this is not what I want." Perturabo looked at the ruins, not knowing who he was talking to, and not knowing whether he saw Olympia or the foundry of Medengard in his eyes at this time.
"Am I crazy? What have I become? What else can I do?"
Fricks and other Terminators looked at each other. They didn't understand what the Lord of Steel was saying, nor could they understand why the Lord of Steel showed fear.
Maybe the abyss finally swallowed the steel? Fricks thought so. As one of the most trusted people of the Primarch, he could only give tentative advice.
"What is done is done, my Primarch. If you are confused about the mission, then other warriors in the legion will definitely be shaken."
"Tell me that not all of you have carried out my orders without question."
Fricks always felt that the Primarch's answer was full of expectation and pleading, like a child who did something wrong and wanted to be comforted.
This weird emotion did not extend from his data, but continued to run along the original simulated plot.
"There are a few people who refused to raise their weapons against civilians, and we are dealing with them."
"Very good."
Perturabo blinked, with a little tear in his eyes, and then the entire scene shattered, leaving only Perturabo's control body and the completely damaged bionic robot lying on the ground.
Standing up from the groove, Perturabo threw the control body aside, and carefully picked up the bionic robot on the ground with his hands after becoming a demon.
A door opened on the ground, and Perturabo's huge body slowly walked into it. He hung the bionic robot on a wall equipped with a stasis stand.
There is not just this bionic robot here, but a robot body, and each robot is damaged differently.
Some bodies exploded, as if Perturabo had inserted his fist into them, some had just broken necks, and some were completely torn into pieces.
But no matter what fate they suffered, these robots with superb craftsmanship all met their end of death and destruction.
"If. If you didn't rebel, I wouldn't have to go back. Why."
Fulgrim is also a primarch whose reasons for rebellion are extremely complicated. In fact, judging from the reasons, the strangest betrayal is actually Mortarion.