The strongest astral army in Warhammer 40K

Above Baal's orbit, the starry sky, previously obscured by the Zerg mothership, was suddenly torn apart by countless blinding beams of light. A massive number of Imperial warships warped out of warp space, their hulls adorned with the Imperial Aquila insignia, gleaming with a cold light. These warships surged onto the battlefield like a steel torrent, instantly turning the tide of battle.

Guilliman's flagship, the "Radiance of Macragge," appeared at the forefront of the orbit, its massive and imposing hull resembling a mobile fortress. Guilliman stood on the bridge, his gaze cold and sharp. His voice, transmitted through the communicators, echoed throughout the fleet: "All units, launch an immediate attack! Destroy the Hive Mothership and provide support to ground forces!"

The Imperial warships unleashed a torrential downpour of fire on the Hive Mothership, with explosive cannons, thermal beams, and missiles weaving a dense web of fire in the air. The Hive Mothership's psionic shields crumbled rapidly under the intense barrage, its hull torn apart, and corrosive slime and flesh gushed from the wounds.

"Boom!" The Hive Mothership was reduced to ashes by the firepower of the Imperial warships. Its remains floated in the void, as if proclaiming the failure of the Hive's will.

On the ground, the Zerg offensive crumbled rapidly under the firepower of the Imperial fleet. The bodies of the Hive Overlord and the Zerg Saint turned to ashes in the barrage, and Zerg soldiers fell in the light. Dante and his warriors finally had a chance to catch their breath.

"Lord Guilliman... has finally arrived." Dante's voice carried a hint of weariness and relief as he gently swung his power axe, "Mourning."

Cato Cicarius looked up at the sky and smiled.

When Guilliman appeared on the ground, his power armor was adorned with the Ultramarines' insignia, and his gaze was cold and sharp. Behind him, the Ever Victorious Army and the Imperial Guard quickly deployed, their presence seemingly causing the entire battlefield to tremble.

"Dante, you've done a good job." Guilliman's voice was deep and powerful. "Leave the rest of the battle to them."

Dante nodded, a hint of gratitude in his eyes: "Lord Guilliman, Russell... he disappeared in the battle against the Insect Saint. We... we don't know if he's still alive."

Guilliman's expression changed slightly, but he still pretended to be calm and said: I believe he is still alive.

His figure stood like a towering mountain on Baal's shattered land. His power armor bore the insignia of an Ultramariner, its blue gleaming coldly in the setting sun. His gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the devastated land and the exhausted warriors, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.

Dante stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and lowered his weathered head. His power armor was covered in traces of Zerg acid corrosion, cracks and damage were everywhere. His voice was low and hoarse, filled with deep shame: "Lord Guilliman... thank you for saving Baal."

His voice carried an indescribable heaviness, as if every word weighed heavily on his heart. As the Chapter Master of the Blood Angels, he bore the heavy responsibility of protecting Baal, yet this war had nearly wiped out his entire legion. His heart was filled with self-blame and pain, as if he had failed the expectations of Saint Gilles, the Father of Genetics.

After Dante knelt, the warriors behind him also knelt on one knee. Blood Angels, Ultramarines, Astral Legion... all of them had a look of weariness and awe in their eyes.

Guilliman's gaze softened as he stepped forward and helped Dante to his feet. His voice was deep and powerful, carrying a reassuring strength: "Dante, there's no need for that. It was your resilience that held out until reinforcements arrived and protected Baal. I should thank you, warriors of the Blood Angels."

Dante's body trembled slightly, his eyes filled with barely concealed pain. When Guilliman mentioned the "Angels of Blood," he finally broke down. His helmet was removed, revealing his weathered face. His eyes were brimming with tears, and his voice choked with sobs: "Lord Guilliman… I… I have failed the Father of Genetics. The Angels of Blood… now there are less than two hundred left… I… I have failed Saint Gilles's expectations…"

His voice grew softer and softer, as if every word carried endless pain. As the chapter commander of the Holy Blood Angels, he had witnessed the sacrifice of countless comrades and the destruction of the legion. His heart was filled with self-blame and remorse, as if it were all his fault.

Guilliman's gaze held a hint of sympathy and respect. He gently patted Dante's shoulder, his voice carrying a reassuring strength: "Dante, you have done enough. Saint Gilles would be proud of you if he saw your efforts. War is always cruel, but it is your sacrifices that allowed Baal to survive."

Dante's body trembled slightly, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His voice choked with emotion: "But...but they...they all sacrificed themselves...I...I can't face it..."

Guilliman's gaze held a resolute glint: "Dante, your warriors did not sacrifice in vain. Their bravery and perseverance bought time for the Empire. Now, we need you to rise up and lead the remaining Blood Angels to continue fighting for the Empire."

Dante took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His gaze was resolute, as if telling Guilliman that he would never fall. He nodded, his voice filled with unwavering strength: "I understand, Lord Guilliman. I will continue to fight until the very last moment."

Guilliman smiled slightly, a hint of approval in his eyes: "Very good, Dante. The future of the Empire still needs your strength."