Logan Grimnar scowled as he, once again, was forced to tolerate the presence of the abominable Devourers, the dark spawn of the King of Curses himself, Ryomen Sukuna, the barely-loyal Primarch who, at one point, came to blows with Rus himself, their legions at each others' throats. It was only the intervention of the great Vulkan that prevented an all-out war between the Devourers and the Vlka Fenryka. Bjorn the Fell-Handed was the only one old enough, at least among the Vlka Fenryka, to remember that. And so, even now, ten thousand years later, the mistrust between the two legions ran deep, occasionally resulting in skirmishes and petty squabbles that almost always ended in injuries for both sides, though never in death.
Personally, Logan did not dislike the Devourers through the shared history of their legions, no. Such a thing was childish and unfair. The modern Devourers, save perhaps for the Old Man Genocide, hadn't even been born when their rivalry commenced. No, he hated them for the incident in Acherionus, around a century ago, when the Devourers and the Jujutsu Clans of Shibuya waged an all-out war against the Inquisition, massacring thousands of Inquisitors and putting dozens of planets to the sword in a matter of weeks, simply because a maddened Inquisitor Lord declared that all Jujutsu Sorcerers were servants of the great enemy and that the Devourers were colluding with Daemons – absolutely false, Logan would readily admit, as even he knew that Jujutsu Sorcerers were immune to the temptations of Chaos. To be entirely fair, not a single Astartes Chapter or Legion believed that such a declaration was anything other than a terrible idea – one of the most terrible ideas ever declared in the Imperium.
And the Devourers and their Jujutsu Sorcerer allies made the Inquisition aware of that fact, reminded them why even daemons feared the Devourers and why a few of the Orks worshiped Ryomen Sukuna as their third god. The Inquisition also conveniently forgot about all the Jujutsu Sorcerers with their ranks, who were more than willing to defect as soon as the war started.
In the end, however, the Space Wolves and the Blood Angels were forced to act lest the Inquisition be rendered entirely extinct.
And yet, the Devourers did not stop, even as they were surrounded from every possible side. The one thing he truly admired about the children of the King of Curses was their strength at arms. If their numbers were higher, then not even Logan would deny that their legion was the strongest and most powerful, perhaps even more so than the Ten Thousand Custodians. It was a terrifying prospect, but the Devourers' lack of numbers stifled them. That said, the War of the Three Legions, as it became known afterwards, did not end until about a year after it started, after an innumerable number of lives were lost, when the Salamanders and the Ultramarines, the only two legions with amicable relations with the Devourers, intervened, finally stopping the war – though, to be certain, Logan still wasn't entirely sure how they managed that considering the Master of the Devourers, Yamamoto Genryusai, was not exactly known for being merciful or reasonable.
In the end, the Inquisition, specifically the Ordo Malleus, was almost entirely crippled. Due to their power and due to their history of service, the Devourers were pardoned – not even sent on a penitent crusade to atone for their crimes. They were just pardoned. Pardoned. It was as if they hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, the High Lords seemed like they were the ones asking for the forgiveness of the Devourers.
Logan mistrusted them ever since, for no single legion should ever wield that much power or possess that much interest by virtue of force alone. That said, they were reliable warriors – utterly powerful, silent, and steadfast, especially if they were paid well. In this case, the former planetary government offered them an exorbitant sum for a single squad of Devourers, the same squad of Devourers that now stood by him as they surveyed a map of the entire planet – one half of it belonging to the Orks. Logan gritted his teeth in their presence, but otherwise kept himself calm. His mistrust was towards their goal, perhaps even their leadership, but not towards their capacity for warfare; that was the one thing about them that remained inscrutable, even after ten thousand years. He wished he'd had a contingent of them by his side when they encountered that rogue Jujutsu Sorcerer, that maddened, white-haired miscreant who was responsible for the deaths of so many of his brothers.
If they had been there, then maybe that tragedy might've been averted.
"What would you have us do?" The Captain of the Devourers Expeditionary Squad, Captain Jimu, asked. And that was another thing Logan liked. They were hired to supplement his legion, to follow orders to the letter; and he trusted them enough to do just that, simply because that was how they operated for the last ten thousand years.
The most vexing problem was that the Orks were too well-entrenched and so had little incentive to venture out of their forts when it was Logan and the Vlka Fenryka who had to be the ones to attack them if there was to be any hope of victory, of breaking this damned stalemate. However, he couldn't do so without risking too many lives. Aerial superiority was also not achievable with so many anti-air guns pointed upwards, ready to unleash a storm of bullets right towards the sky. They couldn't just being orbital bombardment either as doing so would render the whole point of fighting for this world, specifically for its industrial capacity, rather moot.
The only real option was to win through ground warfare, the least efficient method, but also the only available method. Oh, how Logan hated this campaign and everything about it. "You and your ilk, due to your low numbers, would better serve the war effort by rampaging behind enemy lines, disrupting just about everything and anything you can disrupt, just be sure to stay as far away from our main force as possible; though, I assume you'd prefer such an assignment to begin with?"
Captain Jimu chuckled under his helmet, turning to the other Devourers who chuckled similarly, before sending Logan a curt nod. "You know us so well, Lord Grimnar. I foresee a very interesting working contract with you and your lot. Toodles!"
Captain Jimu snapped his fingers and the Devourers promptly walked out of the command center, like they owned the place. Logan sighed and shook his head. Good riddance. If they all got themselves blown up by the Orks, then he'd shed no tears. But, they'd serve well enough. He'd fought with the Devourers just as many times as he'd fought against them and, each time, he'd choose to have them on his side, rather than against him.
"Great Wolf, I bear... odd news," One of his Scouts suddenly approached, stepping into view from the shadows. "One of our most important targets, the Ork Settlement that held a great bulk of fuel and ammunition is... well... it's no longer there. It no longer exists. In its place is an empty land – no structures remain, no ruins, nothing. By my estimation, it must've disappeared around around two hours ago. No trace – nothing beyond the ordinary. Whatever happened there happened almost instantly."
That sounded... oddly and infuriatingly familiar.
Logan Grimnar's scowl deepened as he processed the scout's words. "No longer there?" His voice was gruff, disbelief hanging in the air like the aftermath of a thunderclap. "What in Russ' name do you mean, 'no longer there?'"
The scout hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the report. "It's gone, Great Wolf. Wiped clean off the map. Not even the usual Orkish debris—just barren ground."
Logan's mind raced, his thoughts snagging on possibilities, none of them comforting. Orbital bombardment? No, the ships were locked in stalemate above, unable to penetrate the Orks' fortified anti-aircraft network. A warp disturbance? Unlikely, or he'd have felt the disruption in the air. Could it have been the Devourers? But no—Captain Jimu and his squad had only just received their orders.
The scent of witchcraft and deceit stank in the air, reminding him of the Jujutsu Sorcerers who had plagued the Imperium before. He clenched his fist, frustrated at the lack of answers.
"Do we have any reports of enemy movement?" Logan asked, already suspecting what might be coming next.
The scout nodded, his face grim. "Yes, my lord. Shortly after the disappearance, we picked up increased Ork activity. They've been mustering their forces across several of their major strongholds. We believe they're preparing for a full-scale assault."
"How many?" Logan growled, his knuckles whitening on the edge of the tactical table.
"Too many to count. Every Warboss from every stronghold within the region seems to be mobilizing their forces. There are even reports of Gargants on the move."
The Great Wolf let out a low growl, his icy eyes narrowing in focus. This was no mere raiding party; this was an invasion. The Orks were looking to end this stalemate once and for all, and they intended to do it by overwhelming the Vlka Fenryka in a single, devastating strike.
"Finally," Logan said, eyes filled with fury. Around him, the higher-ranking members of the Vlka Fenryka felt the same, nodding at his words.
"But Great Wolf," the scout said carefully, "We're outnumbered."
Logan fixed him with a hard stare.
"Let them come," he said coldly. "The Vlka Fenryka has fought against worse odds before. We are the Emperor's Executioners, and if the green-skinned brutes think they can overrun us, they're in for a rude awakening."
Still, the numbers bothered him. Orks were never shy about throwing hordes into the grinder, but this felt different. Coordinated. Clever. And that was a word that made Logan's stomach churn when applied to the likes of Orks. Something was pushing them from the shadows, an unseen hand, guiding the Orks, who followed, perhaps, unknowingly. His thoughts drifted immediately towards the Eldar, but... why would they be here, of all places?
His thoughts turned back to the vanished Ork settlement, to the eerie, too-clean disappearance. The Devourers hadn't had enough time to cause that. Could this be the work of the rogue sorcerer? The white-haired fiend responsible for his brothers' deaths in that last miserable encounter? Or had the Orks somehow obtained some forbidden power?
He pushed the questions aside for now. There was no time for speculation. The Orks were coming, and they were coming in force.
Logan turned to the hololithic display, watching the red markers multiply across the surface of the planet, spreading like a plague as Ork forces amassed, preparing to swarm across the trenches his warriors had carved out over weeks of hard-fought battle. He could see it in his mind's eye—the feral beasts rushing forward, crude machines of war roaring behind them, the stink of oil and blood thick in the air.
"Gather all hosts," Logan commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. "We shall meet this beasts in the field of battle."
His gaze drifted momentarily toward the exit, where Captain Jimu and his Devourers had left not long ago. Perhaps their presence here was more than just mercenary interest. He needed to find out, and fast. But for now, he had a war to fight.
Lelith grinned as she stood upon the peak of a mountain, buried in ruins, overlooking the gathering of the Greenskin hosts into a single, sea of green so vast it seemed to cover the land entirely. Her plan had worked a little too well, it seemed, thanks to the Britheim's incredible power. Now, all she had to do was wait, nudge things here and there, perhaps, but the dominoes were falling upon the Wolves of Fenris and they were falling hard and fast – just the way she liked it.
Oh, the very thought of the Britheim, grinning as he stalked a land ruined by his hand, brought no small amount of warmth all over her body, especially around her-
"Lady Lelith, we've received word from the Supreme Overlord." Lelith's mood soured immediately. Still she pulled herself away from her musing and sighed.
"What does he want?"
AN: Chapter 52 is out on (Pat)reon!