Chapter 470 If you are asked to assist in the battle, you will send 300,000 troops?
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
The shock of warships tearing through the warp as they passed through Mandeville Point echoed in the souls of the navigators.
Everyone felt excited.
Since the Great Crusade, there have been few instances of the three Primarchs fighting together. Almost every one of them has been recorded in the history of the Empire, and they are fortunate enough to participate in such a battle today!
Long live the Emperor! Long live the Primarch!
The Astartes sat upright in the Fist Assault Craft. They put their chainswords or bolters flat on their thighs, burned incense and prayed, hoping that the machine spirit would be happy and help them succeed in the battle.
The Fist Assault Craft is a critically acclaimed gang-hopping aircraft.
The presence of the Astartes here means that they are ready to take on the most difficult combat missions and bring victory to the Primarch and the Emperor!
Time passed by minute by second, and the combat order was delayed.
The Astartes began to wonder.
Didn't it say there was a trap outside? Why didn't they let them attack? If we wait any longer, they might be blown up by the enemy in space before they even attack!
However, there is obviously a reason why the battle order did not come.
A solemn atmosphere enveloped the command hall, and everyone was stunned by the shock.
"!@#! @￥%@#"
Looking at the incredible sight in front of him and on the radar, Guilliman, who had always been well-educated, couldn't help but utter a classic Macragge curse word.
The entire radar screen is red!
Generally speaking, a red dot represents an enemy. What the hell is the whole screen red?
Every pixel is an enemy?
Looking at the image displayed on the radar, the Guillimanians were dumbfounded.
"Is the radar malfunctioning?"
he asked the tech sergeant next to him.
The technical sergeant had not yet answered, but Guilliman already had the answer in his mind, because he could see the continuous group of battleships in the distance through the portholes of the battleship.
Stretching like a mountain range, as majestic as the sea, and flashing signal lights like a vast galaxy, what a magnificent military appearance this is!
This is the fleet!
Compared with the majestic fleet in front of him, the one thousand battleships put together by the three primarchs were like a grain of sand in the mountains or a drop of water in the ocean, which was completely insignificant!
He now understands why there are many Mandeville "shells" in the Prospero galaxy, because every battleship not far away has activated the anti-subspace force field and forcibly squeezed out countless Mandeville "shells" .
Guilliman's heart was filled with shock.
There is such a huge fleet in the galaxy, and they were not even aware of it during the Great Crusade in the past two hundred years!
Guilliman clenched his fists, not knowing what order to give.
escape?
His two brothers were still here. Although his relationship with these two brothers was only average, he, Robert Guilliman, could not abandon his brothers and escape alone.
As for beating.
Guilliman looked at the red radar and swallowed.
The difference in numbers between the enemy and ourselves is too great.
If it was one to ten, he would still have the courage to give it a try, but if it was one to thirty, he would be a little desperate. Now it is not just one to thirty, it is one to hundreds!
His home planet is relatively well-constructed and has abundant soldiers. There are a total of 120,000 ultramarines in the fleet.
His two brothers combined have less than 80,000.
There are less than 200,000 Astartes in total. Each Astartes must destroy one or two battleships before they can win this war.
Not to mention there are not enough people, there are not enough assault boats for jumping gangs!
O Emperor!
Where did this fleet come from?
Guilliman vaguely felt that he had overlooked something. He forced himself to calm down and said: "Inspire the shield power to the maximum. Don't act rashly. Contact Ryan and Mortarion."
This is Prospero. It can't be said to be the hinterland of the empire, but it's not even the edge of the empire. How could such a huge fleet come from?
What are they from?
Guilliman first ruled out the warp entities and the Thousand Sons Legion.
If the Warp Entity and the Thousand Sons Legion had such powerful forces, they would have overthrown the Empire a long time ago. They would not have to act like they did for two hundred years, being beaten up by the Empire while helping the Empire in its great expedition.
Whose fleet does this belong to?
What are they doing in Prospero?
Why don't they attack us?
What are they waiting for?
Guilliman was puzzled. At this time, the communication between Llane and Mortarion was connected.
"My brother, don't act rashly!" Guilliman hurriedly warned, "They haven't attacked us yet, so don't provoke them. They should have nothing to do with the Thousand Sons Legion!"
Maybe the fleet just passed by Prospero. Although the possibility is small, it is possible after all.
"Then what should we do now?" Ryan said with lingering fear, "Invent a document to ask them about their identities, and then let them leave Prospero?"
Mortarion was silent, but his breathing sounded like a broken bellows.
Guilliman smiled bitterly: "That's all we can do. Ask them who they are and what they are doing here."
Bad news: Can’t beat it!
Good news: It’s not a fight yet, but we can discuss it.
"Leave this to me," Guilliman volunteered.
He worried that his two brothers would speak harshly and inspire a doomed and inexplicable war.
A few minutes later, Guilliman received a communication request from the mysterious fleet.
The other party's first words confused him.
"Dear Guilliman, we are the coalition fleet of the United Government. We have received an invitation from the Emperor to assist you in capturing Magnus."
The voice was gentle and full of friendliness.
Guilliman:? ? ?
Ryan:? ? ?
Mortarion:? ? ?
Friends, friends, friends!
The hearts of the three primarchs were racing, and each one was so shocked that they were speechless.
Guilliman looked shocked: "Are you a fleet of pure-blood humans?"
"Yes." The admiral commander of the coalition government paused. "The situation in the galaxy is bad. In order to protect ourselves, we have brought more warships. Please don't be surprised."
For the coalition government, it is indeed a small fleet, far from touching the production capacity limit of each military factory universe.
But one thing about the coalition government is an unimaginable huge wave that falls on the human empire.
Guilliman was speechless.
He turned his head and glanced at the seemingly endless group of battleships outside the porthole, feeling his head buzzing.
He murmured: "I brought an extra 100 million warships, right?"
At this time, the admiral commander of the coalition government spoke: "Dear Guilliman, we are only responsible for assisting you in capturing Magnus. You have to do the rest yourself."
Although it would be easy for the coalition government to execute Prospero's extermination order, this is after all an internal matter of the human empire.
It is inconvenient for the coalition government to intervene.
"Don't worry, as long as Magnus appears in the Prospero system, we will be able to lock him down and never let him escape through subspace."
Beep——
The communication ended and the three Primarchs looked at each other in confusion. (End of chapter)