Countless battles like the Becker Machine Factory occurred.
With the advantage of a preemptive strike, most of the noble strongholds in the Middle Hive were breached in one fell swoop, controlled without even a firefight.
The battles in the Upper Hive and the Spire were much more difficult.
Although the main attackers in these areas were Astartes, these nobles possessed a number of formidable fighters.
Faced with a life-or-death situation, many families chose mutual destruction.
Mutants, xenos mercenaries, combat automata, vat-grown abominations, rogue psykers…
Even the Astartes had to be cautious when facing these enemies.
Fortunately, the Chapter’s fleet had already secured control of the airspace over Badab, and the entire sky and orbit were under the control of the Astral Claws.
Fighter and bomber squadrons were operating at high capacity, providing fire support to the Astartes.
Some voidcraft used in space warfare also plunged into the atmosphere, these larger, more powerful, and more ferocious craft carrying tonnes of bombs, sending all enemies of humanity into the sky.
If it weren’t for the difficulties of subsequent repair and reconstruction, and the potential for massive civilian casualties, Huron would have preferred to order the fleet to launch a direct orbital bombardment.
Ideally, to pulverize everything, leaving only a pristine white expanse!
Huron stood on the observation deck of the Watt family mansion, watching the flames engulf the Upper Hive and the spire, his face still blank.
Corian, meanwhile, stood guard around Huron with the Terminator Company.
Huron glanced at Corian, who was intently watching the flames of war and eager to fight, and decided to release him.
“Corian,” Huron said, “take half a Terminator company and lead the Second Company in attacking the manors of the high nobles.
Kill any who resist, imprison any who surrender.”
“Yes, Chapter Master!” Corian exclaimed excitedly, then hesitated, “Why keep them?
Shouldn’t all these nobles be killed?”
“Because they don’t deserve to die as nobles,” Huron gritted his teeth.
“I will nail them to the pillar of shame, let them die as heretics, inhuman beasts, anti-social scum.”
“Understood, Chapter Master.” Corian drew his power sword and led half a Terminator company away from the Watt family mansion.
Huron looked up at the sky; a huge, swirling nebula, like an eye, came into view.
That was the Maelstrom, the second largest Warp rift in the Milky Way, second only to the Eye of Terror.
What appeared to be an eye-like nebula was actually the process of matter being sucked into the Warp.
This was the first time Huron had seen the real starry sky since his transmigration.
Before, he had been holed up in the Chapter’s Monastery, working with the high-ranking members of the Chapter on development.
“How dare they…” Huron muttered to himself.
Why did Valen dare to treat people so blatantly as food?
Judging from his practised movements, this wasn’t his own idea.
This process probably lasted a very, very long time, so long that Valen even considered it all perfectly normal.
Where were the Arbites?
Where was the Inquisition?
Where was the Ecclesiarchy?
Where was the Officio Assassinorum?
Weren’t they usually so quick to punish heretics?
How come such a major heretic family like the Watts stopped pretending, and nobody bothered to do anything about it?
They even served as planetary governors for over a hundred years!
If Huron hadn’t transmigrated, he might have been amused; this was the dark gothic aesthetic of Warhammer, the hallmark of the Imperium of Man.
If he were just an ordinary transmigrator, without any special advantages, he could have numbed himself with self-deception: “I can’t control this, it’s not my problem.”
But he did have special advantages, and powerful ones at that.
Starting as the Chapter Master of the Astral Claws, he could easily take off.
Therefore, he tried to reform everything gently, striving to make everyone happy and accepting.
Whether it was using edicts to increase the success rate of recruit conversion to near 100%, using military factories to manufacture Astartes equipment, using civilian factories for infrastructure, or using training functions to quickly train literate auxiliary troops,
It was all to ensure everyone received tangible benefits, preventing anyone from becoming a sacrifice on his path to power.
Even the nobles, he tried to spare their lives.
This is also why he didn’t mind partnering with Valen to deal with the other nobles.
As long as the Watt family and the other nobles whose property was confiscated didn’t go insane, he wasn’t worried about letting them go and making a fortune together.
For no other reason than that he had a cheat, the ability to do it.
As mentioned before, you can’t expect someone who only knows how to operate a tightrope and control a console to withstand pressure and act decisively, right?
Then reality slapped him hard in the face.
“A mirror doesn’t shine without wiping it, and nobles can’t be ignored without killing them…” Huron muttered to himself.
Of course, that’s what he said; Huron didn’t intend to carry out indiscriminate massacres, that would be no different from the nobles themselves.
But from now on, the noble class can forget about making a fortune; they’ll have to survive the public trial first.
Meanwhile, on a level unseen by Huron, the system was maintaining the balance of his gene-seed, preventing Huron from going completely insane.
The origins of the Astral Claws Chapter are unknown, as they are a product of the Cursed 21st Founding, a chimera of Ultramarines, World Eaters, Raven Guard, and Night Lords.
They are a relatively successful product of the Mechanicus Magi.
While lacking any outstanding superior mutations, the bloodlust of the World Eaters, the gene-seed degeneration of the Raven Guard, and the prophetic nightmares of the Night Lords have all been suppressed, and the purity and stability of their gene-seed are astonishing.
This is why the Astral Claws Chapter was able to split into three successor Chapters.
The Tiger Claws, on the other hand, have become extremely warlike due to prolonged time in the Warp, resulting in a heightened expression of the World Eaters’ genetic traits.
Fortunately, the Chapter has consistently used strict discipline to restrain this warlike nature, making the Tiger Claws more like warhounds than World Eaters.
Without the system’s balance, Huron would likely already be trapped in the Night Lords’ prophecy of a “hopeless future,” and driven to madness.
However, currently, aside from not being mad, he’s not much better off.
Huron’s mind was now filled with images of various punishments and tortures, imagining the nobles weeping and wailing as they endured them.
Then he felt a wave of discouragement, for this only satisfied his anger and meant nothing to the dead Sister.
Yes, Huron didn’t even know her name; neither her own memories nor Valen had mentioned it.
“The nobles must be killed…” he muttered to himself.