The Emperor’s Angel of Death

#2127 - Anti-traditional Chegris tactics

As the Hunting Master of the White Scars, Kosarro might be seen by everyone as excelling in solo hunts, but he would show them the truth: his accomplishments in naval warfare would surprise everyone.

"Orders: as planned, the central fleet will deploy around the flagship; First and Second Squadrons will cover the flanks and advance appropriately; the vanguard fleet will approach the enemy!"

Under Kosarro's command, the fleet moved swiftly, forming a massive firing array.

"Huh? Has Kosarro lost his mind?"

The bridge of the Red Corsairs' flagship, the battle barge *Crimson Dawn*, adorned with skulls and bloodstains, was a hive of activity. Mutated crewmen, shackled to their posts, relayed orders with inhuman sounds. Zhufor, seated on his massive command throne, watched data and information scroll across the crimson-lit displays, his brow furrowed beneath the mark of the Blood God, his corpse-white face filled with doubt.

"This pile of slow, heavy gunships, and a bunch of old tubs, is he planning to engage in long-range artillery duels like those dullard human generals?"

"Master, perhaps this is an opportunity."

A figure beside Zhufor bowed and spoke softly. He wore armor covered in etchings and scriptures, with gleaming black eyes and dark brown skin. His scalp was almost completely peeled away, replaced with some kind of scaled hide, and his mouth was a split gash filled with rows of jagged teeth. His nose was simply gone, whether cut off or otherwise, leaving only two small holes in the center of his face.

This was the only Word Bearer in Zhufor's warband, exiled from Ghalmek after a failed power struggle. Normally, Zhufor wouldn't give such a wretch a second glance, just bury an axe in his skull.

But this one knew a thing or two about daemon lore and was familiar with the Red Corsairs' internal affairs. Zhufor, for the sake of future operations, had made him an advisor, or rather, an accomplice.

"The Imperial fleet is outnumbered, and while their tonnage is greater, and their firepower stronger, they have far fewer ships. If we adopt a chaotic assault combined with boarding tactics, we could inflict significant damage, perhaps even defeat this Imperial fleet."

Listening to this suggestion, Zhufor didn't immediately reply, his fingers tapping out a click-clack rhythm on the metal throne.

"It could also be a trap."

Another murky voice echoed from behind Zhufor's throne.

It was the Noxious Blightbringer, reeking of decay.

"Kosarro isn't that stupid."

"But these ships are undeniably there, their speed dictates that their maneuverability is far behind ours."

"But they also have powerful shields, solid armor, and the firepower to punch through most of our fleet with a single shot. We should harass them, preserve our strength, and await the outcome."

"Constantly avoiding battle will be too obvious. Others will see us as cowards, and those warbands considering joining us will hesitate."

Hearing this, Zhufor began to have some ideas.

His initial plan was indeed to preserve strength, waiting for the outcome of Huron's and Sorshyan's final battle. If Huron won, he'd ride the coattails, seize some spoils, and leave the Maelstrom. If Huron lost, then…

But constantly avoiding battle did have some negative consequences. More importantly, if he truly wanted to contend for the legacy, even the throne, of the Blackheart in the future, then Zhufor had to be more persuasive than others.

Nothing was more convincing than a victory, especially when everyone else was failing.

And those large warships were indeed tempting. If he could capture some, it would greatly help his future endeavors in the Maelstrom. Regardless of Kosarro's schemes, as long as he didn't get caught himself, then with the mobility of his fleet, whether to fight or retreat was no problem.

After careful consideration, as the Imperial fleet had already formed up and was slowly approaching, Zhufor made a decision.

"The Blood God craves blood and skulls! We must satisfy him!"

Afterward, Zhufor adopted the White Scars' classic tactic, ordering a full retreat, attempting to use this distance to force the Imperial fleet to alter its formation.

Sure enough, due to the speed differences between the Imperial warships and Kosarro's orders, the covering fleets on the left and right flanks began to detach from the central fleet and advance, while the vanguard fleet closely followed the Red Corsairs' rear—

The Imperial formation began to unravel.

Then, Zhufor displayed excellent command skills. He divided the Red Corsairs fleet into three. He led the slower but more heavily armed central fleet to continue dragging the Imperial vanguard fleet, while the other two parts used the mobility of small, fast ships to make a huge U-turn, arriving at the outer flanks of the Imperial fleet.

According to Zhufor's plan, these two parts would bypass the Imperial flank covering fleets, directly attacking the central fleet where Kosarro was, launching close-range chaotic battles and boarding operations under the enemy's firepower, completely shattering the Imperial formation. Then, he would head-on scatter the Imperial vanguard fleet, launching a fatal blow.

Because they had the advantage in fleet numbers, even if the Imperial flank fleets wanted to stop them, they couldn't stop much, and their formation dictated that they couldn't concentrate their firepower immediately.

Based on past experience, he predicted that the heavy warships commanded by Kosarro would definitely stay far away in safe positions, conducting long-range artillery strikes and air attacks, which would cause them to become detached from other warships. Once they were entangled by a large number of small ships, the surrounding warships would definitely have difficulty providing timely rescue. This golden time was the key to his achieving a glorious victory, just like the White Scars had defeated those clumsy opponents in the past.

The thought of using the White Scars' own tactics to destroy them made Zhufor almost want to raise a flag in excitement.

The Red Corsairs' formation quickly unfolded. Ships closer to each other began to exchange fire, fighters and daemon engines intertwined, the silent universe boiled and became chaotic. Various heat explosions and radiation signals made it difficult for both sides to observe each other.

In such a situation, the Red Corsairs' actions still had some small accidents.

After the fleets that split off from the main fleet acted, their actions did not completely follow Zhufor's expectations. After being shot by the Imperial covering fleet, they further widened the distance. After all, they were just "franchisees." With the battle reaching this point, few people were truly willing to risk their lives for the Red Corsairs. This undoubtedly delayed their time to encircle the Imperial central fleet.

The second accident made Zhufor even more confused. The Imperial vanguard fleet split in two again. These destroyer escorts moved at extremely high speed to the sides of Zhufor's main formation. Did they intend to use this little force to encircle him?

The entire vanguard fleet was only thirty or so small warships—

There was also something he was a little puzzled about. It seemed that Kosarro's main fleet had not fired, but because of the Imperial vanguard fleet's interference, and the increasingly chaotic electromagnetic environment on the battlefield, he couldn't immediately determine the opponent's position and direction. But according to the detection system's judgment, the enemy should be behind the vanguard fleet, but the distance was difficult to determine.

But the detector did not scan that Kosarro's central fleet was hiding some very small, but extremely powerful ships—Minotaur-class tugs.

"So-called historians all believe that warriors from Chogoris are horse-riding barbarians. We only know how to fight in a loose and disorganized manner, and even think that the Primarch's tactics are just dragging, gouging, and piercing. The White Scars only know how to use mobility to contain and fight enemies, just like the herdsmen on the grasslands only know how to ride horses and shoot arrows at enemies."

On the bridge, Kosarro fiddled with his finger on the head of his falcon, then sneered:

"But no one remembers what tactics the Primarch used in the final battle to destroy the city-dynasties of Chogoris. The warriors of the grasslands have more than just scimitars and bows. We also have armored warhorses and invincible lances."

Saying that, he suddenly drew his scimitar, pointing to the vaguely visible fleet in the distance through the observation window.

"Charge!"