A certain star system on the way to Terra.
It was not a standard Imperial shipping lane; there were not only no Imperial worlds here, but even merchant fleets were rare.
Yet, at this moment, an endless fleet was spread out in the void of the star system. Meanwhile, behind a certain planet, hundreds of warships were surrounding a 'vessel' far larger than an orac.
Countless Macro Cannons and various types of firepower were pointed straight at this 'giant ship'.
Yet, this giant ship, which had nothing but size, possessed no retaliatory firepower at this moment. Instead, it was like a massive, bloated void-city with numerous irregular domes, allowing itself to be hunted by the menacing human fleet surrounding it.
Only the wreckage of the eldar warship that had fought to the bitter end not long ago revealed the identity of this void-city.
This was a giant ship, and it was also an Aeldari craftworld!
As the final mobile homes of the Craftworld Aeldari, these giant ships carried almost all the remaining hope of the Aeldari.
They traversed the galaxy through the Webway and then hid themselves as carefully as possible in certain remote star systems.
Only at necessary moments, and for various reasons, would they appear on the outskirts near other factions.
And at this moment, the craftworld that had been caught by the Sith was here because the star system contained precious minerals, attracting a craftworld to mine for resources.
Originally, this group of Craftworld Aeldari had been mining peacefully for a long time, and could even occasionally send out merchant fleets to trade with nearby humans.
However, after the orac used its hundred-fold enhanced Necron reconnaissance equipment to lock onto this craftworld, the Sith, finding it wasn't even a detour, firmly implemented the Empire's established policy toward xenos.
It was also the Sith's way of 'repaying' the Aeldari for plotting against him.
The craftworld was now completely paralyzed, with large sections of its domes decomposed into massive gaps by Gauss Light Lance.
Inside these gaps, all the mobilized Aeldari men and women were watching the endless human army—from their perspective—with despair!
Imperial Guardsmen fought alongside Astartes, and Transports even ferried down large numbers of vehicles and Knight mechs from the warships.
The Aeldari shuriken catapults continuously fired high-energy crystals, and from behind, they even brought out their last resort: Wraith constructs powered by Aeldari spirit stones.
But these scarce vehicles could not even withstand the concentrated fire of the human forces, let alone anything else.
Even if they could withstand that, what awaited them was the firepower of hundreds of warships overhead, with nearly ten thousand guns of various sizes.
Can't win?
If you can't win, just fire a Macro Cannon!
If that still doesn't work, fire two!
After all, even if each warship fired once, it was hard to say how long it would take for all the warships to complete a bombardment.
Therefore, once the craftworld's defenses were completely shattered, the ground battle became a one-sided slaughter.
On the ground, Huron watched the pirate Astartes charging forward, fanatically shouting the name of the Sith.
He didn't dare to look back at the orac overhead, only able to lower his eyes in frustration.
At the same time, he was truly curious about what method the Sith had used to make these pirates, who had sworn allegiance to him, act as if they were high on stimulants, all showing extreme loyalty to the Sith.
He had originally thought that as long as he followed the Sith to fight until Terra was taken, and if he could keep the Sith happy, the Sith might allow him to return to his Maelstrom.
But looking at his former subordinates now, Huron was almost ready to completely abandon that idea.
After all, he couldn't have the Sith give the nod, only to turn around and find he was all alone, with everyone else wanting to stay and continue following the Sith!
Huron powerlessly withdrew his gaze from these former subordinates, and then, watching a crowd of Mortal recruits retreating in droves, he couldn't even be bothered to lift his eyelids, let alone enforce battlefield discipline.
He just returned to his command post, bored, preparing to strictly execute the Sith's orders:
"The fourth batch of recruits has completed a full battle as planned. Next, the entire army will halt its advance, and the fifth batch of recruits will be deployed to the battlefield."
Huron spoke boredly into the command console, and the Commanders of the mixed Imperial, pirate, and Ancient Legions forces immediately began preparations with practiced ease.
At the same time, having killed their way this far, even the dullest person knew that besides truly wanting to teach the Necrons and Aeldari a lesson, the Sith...
...his main objective was to use these xenos to train his massive number of recruits.
Soon, the fourth batch of recruits retreated, high-spirited, and brushed past the fifth batch of recruits who were arriving.
Both sides had perfectly normal expressions. Only Huron, who was in charge of the ground command, looked at the recruits who had been full of panic not long ago, now retreating with faces full of ferocity.
No matter how Huron looked at it, he felt that these Mortals didn't just lack the look of recruits; they didn't even have the look of veterans.
He stared for a long time, only able to knit his brows in increasing distress, and used a description he himself felt was exaggerated to evaluate this group of 'recruits'.
"To be honest, I really can't accept that they are recruits."
"But if you say they are battle-hardened elites, they do look a bit like it."
Huron watched with his own eyes as these battle-hardened recruits returned from his front to the rear, boarding the Transports that had been waiting for a long time to return to the armed merchant ships in orbit.
There, medical Servitors, hot food, and hot water were already waiting for them.
While the recruits turned to enjoy themselves, inside the craftworld, the Aeldari watched in despair as they finally 'repelled' one wave of the human army, only for the humans to casually send up two more waves, as if it were as easy as drinking water!
Then, at the very center of the craftworld, watching the tide of people surging in from all directions on the screen, the Craftworld Autarch gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, forcing himself to look away.
On the other hand, he looked toward the other side, where a group of Aeldari in the projection were hanging their heads and avoiding his gaze, remaining silent.
Looking at the mixed Aeldari force on the other side, which included Drukhari / Dark Aeldari, Craftworld Aeldari, as well as Harlequins and pirates.
The Craftworld Autarch here was gnashing his teeth so hard sparks almost flew.
"I am not part of your Harlequin Host, nor do I have any connection with you."
"But the trouble you caused is now something I have to bear!"
"If you still claim to be the saviors of the Aeldari, you had better find a way to stop those lunatics on the other side before my people are slaughtered!"
The Craftworld Autarch shouted, pointing at the combat footage on the projection, while the Harlequin Host members on the other side looked at each other, not knowing how to respond.
After all, the Sith had been doing this all the way here; this wasn't the first time they had caught Craftworld Aeldari, and as for the previous attempts, the final results...
The Harlequin Host were even more unable to speak, and in the end, they could only look at Yvraine, who had chosen to warn the Sith first, wanting her to come up with a solution.
The Craftworld Autarch on the other side also looked over eagerly. However, facing everyone's gazes, Yvraine did not hang her head, but after a long silence, the response she gave to their expectant gazes was a long sigh after holding it in for a long time.
The Harlequin Host felt helpless, and the Craftworld Autarch was stunned.
"Wait..."
"That sigh of yours makes me feel like I'm done for!"
The Craftworld Autarch opened his mouth in astonishment, staring blankly at Yvraine in the projection.
And in the depths of Yvraine's heart, where she did not speak, she looked at the exaggerated human army on the other side, and regret welled up in her heart for the umpteenth time.
"Why did I..."
"...have to provoke him?!"
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