Although the Stompa was successfully dealt with by the Titanfall, the battle situation on Helson III was still unfavorable for the Imperium.
On the ice field battlefield, more and more Orks units were swarming out of the ice cracks, their crude war machines crushing the ancient ice and turning the entire frozen land into a boiling green ocean.
Especially as the ice continued to crack, more dormant Orks legions awakened one after another.
Alex stood on the orbital bridge, looking at the constantly refreshing enemy markers on the holographic projection, and could not help but feel his scalp tingle—this planet was like a Orks armory deliberately sealed, and the number of Orcs buried beneath the permafrost was far beyond expectations.
"Could this be a Orks Battle Moon? Why are there so many Orks?" He muttered to himself, staring at the green markers on the tactical map that had spread to the continental shelf.
The Killer Kanz and Mega-Dreadz crawling out of the ice caves were self-assembling at an astonishing speed, and the number of newly appearing Morkanauts even exceeded the total of the Imperium's existing armored forces.
"Wait… could it really be a damn Battle Moon?" Alex's pupils suddenly constricted.
As the ice shell continued to collapse, the images transmitted back from the orbital observation station were shocking: the originally blue and white glacial continent was being visibly encroached upon by green, spreading rapidly like ink dropped into clear water.
Millions of Orks Boyz converged into a surging tide on the ice field, their crude war engines spewing black smoke, staining the entire sky a murky grey-green.
These insane war machines let out deafening "WAAAGH!" roars, impacting the Imperial Army's defenses like a tidal wave.
Their rough skin was covered in frost, white mist billowed from between their tusks, and their eyes burned with bloodthirsty battle intent.
This could be said to be a truly terrifying scene.
The entire ice field seemed to come alive, every inch of permafrost trembling, every iceberg collapsing.
The sheer number of Orks was so great that even the orbital observation station could not accurately count them—they were like a green plague erupting from the depths of the planet's core, devouring the planet at a visible rate.
And this also intensified Alex's suspicion that this planet was a Orks Battle Moon.
He stood on the command bridge, staring intently at the constantly spreading green markers on the holographic projection, his hand unconsciously clenching the control panel.
Battle Moons—those space fortresses built by Orcs, theoretically capable of housing such a vast army.
But the question was, why would this "Battle Moon" be frozen in the Kherson system?
After all, if anything could hide so many Orks, Alex's first thought was a Battle Moon.
These space fortresses, cobbled together by Orc Mekboyz from scrap metal and insane "I fink it works" logic, were often larger than a planet, or rather, they were themselves planets that had been converted.
Beneath their crude exteriors, countless war machines and Orks were hidden, capable of unleashing astonishing combat power in a short period of time.
It had only been a few months since the Orks were discovered on Helson III, yet now, not only ordinary Orks but even Stompas were starting to emerge. To say that this planet had no problems was something even an Ogryn would not believe.
Alex's temples throbbed; he recalled the Adeptus Mechanicus's initial reconnaissance reports—the data claiming "the planet's surface is safe" now seemed utterly absurd.
The number of Orks buried beneath the ice was far beyond expectations, and their awakening speed was increasing exponentially.
However, this still did not explain why Kroak would be on this planet, because if Kroak were on this planet, these Orks would have long evolved into Ancient Orcs and swept across the entire The Galaxy / Milky Way.
Alex's brows furrowed; Kroak's existence and the Orks' abnormal behavior formed an inexplicable contradiction.
Under normal circumstances, Kroak's psyker radiation should accelerate the Orks' evolution, allowing them to transform from ordinary Orcs to Ancient Orcs in a short period of time.
The Orc Empire Emperor faced by the Emperor and Horus during the Great Crusade did not reach Kroak's level. If there truly was a Kroak, let alone Rostov, even the entire Mariupol Sector should have long been conquered by the Orks.
Were they sealed by the Necrons?
Alex was not sure, but one thing he was certain of was that this planet truly had a problem.
He noticed the regular metal structures beneath the ice and the abnormal energy readings released when the Orks awakened.
All these signs indicated that Helson III was far more than just an ordinary frozen planet—it was more like a meticulously designed prison, and the prisoners within were breaking free.
But now, Alex had no time to think so much. He contacted the Adeptus Mechanicus Priests, ignoring their various inquiries and protests about the sudden teleportation of the Warlord-class Psy-Titan, and directly made a request to them: push Helson III towards the Necrons' throne world.
Alex knew the consequences of doing so, but he had to do it now.
Otherwise, once all the Orks on this planet were unfrozen from beneath the ice, even if this planet wasn't a Battle Moon, they would transform it into one.
Those insane Orks Mekboyz would use the metal remnants and ancient technology beneath the ice to arm the entire planet into a mobile war fortress in an extremely short time.
Alex could even imagine the terrifying scene of those Orc Warlords standing on the transformed Battle Moon, letting out deafening "WAAAGH!" roars at the The Galaxy / Milky Way.
If they were to get Kroak then, these Orks would truly be able to take to the skies in a physical sense!
The awakening of this Ancient Orc would grant the Orks unprecedented combat intelligence and organizational ability, allowing the previously scattered Orc tribes to quickly evolve into a war torrent capable of sweeping across the entire The Galaxy / Milky Way.
They would devour one star system after another like a tide, and the Rostov Sub-Sector would become the first casualty of this disaster.
With not much time left until the Great Rift opened, Alex did not want to have a showdown with the Orks before the Great Rift opened.
He needed to conserve every ounce of strength to deal with the impending Chaos invasion, rather than squandering precious troops on these damned fungal organisms.
Moreover, he was not Political Commissar Yarrick; he did not have the ability to withstand the onslaught of the Orks army.
That legendary Political Commissar could fight a bloody battle against the Orks in the steel jungles of Armageddon, but Alex was well aware that he neither possessed such command talent nor the corresponding military resources.
Are you kidding me? Armageddon, as an important industrial world of the Imperium, had tanks and artillery on its planet, and even a Titan Legion equipped with Emperor-class Titans. What could Rostov compare to Armageddon?
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