[Estimated time until the next battle: two hours.]
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Richard glanced at the large screen that had popped up on the chessboard and then turned his attention to the STC Construction Template rewarded by the system.
Of course, the most important thing in his hand was the Lasgun… Its design looked somewhat crude, but the battery removed from the magazine was extraordinary.
A palm-sized battery directly supplied a 200-round magazine for the Lasgun. The high-energy laser fired from it could even melt steel.
At present, most nations were only beginning research into laser weapons. Contemporary lasers were bulky and low in power. They could not compare to the weapon in his hand.
Moreover, this tiny battery equated to 200 rounds of ammunition, greatly increasing both fire density and the load a single soldier could carry.
To lighten the burden for troops, many countries had even started using plastic casings for bullets—but such improvements were minor. Physical ammunition had inherent limitations.
"This is good, but it won't be easy to hand over," Richard thought.
"The police definitely won't handle this. And technically, it's not even considered a firearm; it won't trigger laws about illegal possession!"
"But this energy battery could easily become a civilian patent… A battery with this energy density will likely be useful in other industries!"
"As for the weapon itself… let's see. Even if I hand it over, it probably won't attract attention immediately. Some might even suspect I'm a fraud. When the time is right, someone will come looking for me."
Richard wasn't in a hurry to get rich like other transmigrators. Wealth comes naturally when the time is right, not by rushing. For now, all he needed to do was put the opportunity out and see who grabbed it. Mass-producing Lasgun batteries immediately? Better consider the consequences if one exploded!
He removed the magazine from the Lasgun and tossed the "fire poker" aside. With the magazine and firearm stored separately, accidental discharge was unlikely.
Refocusing on the chessboard, he saw all of Armageddon engulfed in flames of war.
Not just the Hive City—most worlds had suffered varying degrees of demonic invasion. In the barren wastelands, Astra Militarum regiments had formed defensive lines. The Planetary Governor sent out distress signals, while the Inquisition called for Grey Knights.
Armageddon was in peril. They had to withstand the first wave and wait for reinforcements.
Fortunately, the Lion still held her ground. Soladis Hive City hadn't exploded like in the original story, and most of its population hadn't been sacrificed to the Blood God. The advance of demonic forces was slower than in the original timeline. Chaos Cultists hadn't immediately swept across the planet.
However, the Gate of the Red Angel in realspace had become a Chaos spawning ground. Demons, including Chaos war machines, poured into the Materium. The Chaos army grew by the tens of thousands, with World Eaters and Traitor Astartes increasing.
When two full-strength warbands joined, the Lion realized her single Grand Company could no longer handle the threat alone.
Late on the sixth night, the soldiers on the defensive line received no rest. Political Commissars behind them urged vigilance. Even with exhaustion and dark circles, no one dared relax.
"Quickly! Get ready! The Angels of the Emperor warn that the enemy will attack!"
"If you want to survive, pick up your weapons and crush the heretics ahead!"
Commissars even commanded from the front lines, cheering the men on. Those who survived past battles were no cowards—the real cowards had long fallen in the Blood Realm.
Though the enemy hadn't launched a full assault, sporadic gunfire occasionally broke the silence. Some Commissars had already begun executing soldiers influenced by Chaos. A sticky, cloying aura of blood permeated the air, shadowing everyone on the battlefield.
In this high-mortality battle, negligence meant certain death.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
Chaos charged again, this time in far greater numbers. Lasers of various colors lit the frontline, and weapons of all calibers poured fire into enemy ranks.
The Armageddon Steel Legion, over 20,000 strong, faced an enemy possibly dozens of times larger. Fortunately, they had artillery support. Sixteen Basilisk self-propelled guns fired with deadly accuracy 50 km away, obliterating large numbers of Chaos Cultists and creating deep five-meter-wide craters.
Richard smirked at the disparity between this and the range stats printed by GW. Clearly, the British "math education" had been lacking…
Well, maybe Armageddon weapons were just better. Regardless, the artillery effectively slowed the enemy. Defensive lines, urban blocks, and heavy weapons combined to hold the front. Lessons from previous Astartes attacks had informed these deployments, making them resemble World War II or Cold War-era defenses.
"Not bad, this Commander is smart and willing to improve. But against Astartes, it's probably just a delay—their stats and flexibility far exceed traditional armor!"
Richard shivered at the scale. He could only report to the Lion and let her handle the battlefield herself.
"The enemy is planning a general offensive. We can't stay in the Hive City forever!"
The Lion frowned. The scale had surpassed what she could manage. She lacked enough Astartes and couldn't expand the battle. Even if they fought to the death, attrition was inevitable.
Connecting to Colonel Bokant, she ordered:
"Prepare to evacuate the citizens inside the Hive City! Even if they die, they must not perish on the altars of blood!"
Colonel Bokant saw the dense sand table and understood her command power. Evacuating meant forcing citizens across vast wastelands—many might not survive.
"I understand… give me half a day. I'll open rear evacuation tracks and get them out," he said, already accepting his fate.
Low-level citizens, hearing the city was falling, surged like a tidal wave toward the southern gates. Hover-cars, motorcycles, and improvised vehicles sped across the wasteland, while the majority ran on foot. Frail bodies collapsed in stampedes; Richard's heart ached for them.
The Primarchs' loyalty had lasted less than a millennium before rebellion, far shorter than the Men of Iron's loyalty. Richard thought automation or AI would have prevented such a debacle.
Time passed, and Richard's chess pieces increased, showing Terminator losses. Even with thick armor, combat intensity ensured inevitable casualties.
"Damn it, why hasn't the sun risen yet? Two hours feel like a lifetime!"
The Lion, commanding on the battlefield, had to memorize enemy positions reported by Richard while fighting—a crushing mental strain.
"Motherfucker! To hell with commanding—charge! Detonate the Hive City core at dawn! Let those heretics get nothing!"
Finally, the first ray of starlight ended the seven-day defense mission. The system rewarded Richard, announcing the next stage:
[Blow up Soladis Hive City and complete the Armageddon campaign mission.]
[Completion grants 2000 Deployment Points and allows direct capture of pieces from the losing side.]
Richard slammed the table. Waiting for a key enemy unit to appear and then snatching it away—especially Khorne's Greater Daemon—was going to be exhilarating!
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