The doors of the fortress did not open slowly and steadily. No no no. That was pathetic and very boring. The orks blew up their own metal doors using whatever explosives they had, marking their triumphant entry onto the battlefield. Such an act of recklessness launched the two enormous metal plates that served as a door into the air, falling on a large number of enemies on the other side of the battlefield, while a large curtain of smoke, dust and sand rises in front of the entrance. of the fortress.

The attacking orcs paused for a moment to "admire" such a display of savagery, only to see excitedly how the orks under Kanan's command had abandoned their pathetic attempts to defend themselves and were ready to launch into battle. At last. A good fight. That was the reason they had come in the first place, but the defending side was acting so strange.

The Korn, as they had called the enemy side, watched in confusion as a huge metal wall approached them at high speed. Their ranged weapons had no effect, and much of the explosives had already been used up. On the other side of the iron curtain, Kanan's orks advanced at a brisk pace on the enemy formations, pushing the enormous pieces of metal with their physical strength alone, their weapons ready to attack the enemy when the time was right.

Still, this did not worry the one who seemed to be in command of the attacking force in the least. "What fools" He thought to himself, when he saw how the three motorcycles that were left in his forces had turned around and were ready to charge against the defenders.

There was no possible way the defending forces could stop them. They were fast, they were brutal, the red-painted battle bikes were unstoppable, loaded with ammunition and explosives even in the tires.

Kanan: - NOW! -

The voice of the ork who seemed to be the leader was heard throughout the battlefield. A good portion of hand grenades and improvised bombs were thrown at the motorcycles, but they fell long before their arrival. The rest of the orks just laughed at seeing such stupidity. How could they make such an absurd mistake?

From a distance, the Korn leader could not enjoy the spectacle more. The enemy leader was not only a dwarf by gold warlord standards, he was also an idiot. But the smile on his face did not last long when he saw what was happening from a distance.

The attacking drivers had the same thinking as their leader. When they saw the idiots throw the explosives ahead of time they began to laugh and only accelerated more to feel the adrenaline of a good explosion. In their mind, they will go through the cloud of fire and smoke with their motorcycles at high speed, dominating the battlefield with their bullets and explosives. But the only thing they could do was see the battlefield from above.

Without knowing how or why, the bikers were flying through the air, and their bikes had succumbed to the terrain. It was then that the rival gold leader realized what had happened. The explosives were not intended to destroy the motorcycles, but rather to create craters in the ground through which they were going to pass. The enormous tires attacked each other, and the momentum itself launched all the occupants into the air, falling without any opportunity onto the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, where they would know a quick and painless death.

This left the orc leader completely out of his mind, because by the time he reacted, his troops were being decimated by an impenetrable wall of steel that charged towards them.

The caliber of their firearms could do nothing. The explosives they had were not big enough to stop them permanently. A makeshift Nordic shield wall was effective enough to make any offensive stop instantly.

The forces under the command of the white-haired ork were barely exposed to danger. They only raised the barrier to kill their enemies and continue advancing. Small gaps of barely a second, but enough to swing a machete or fire a burst of ammunition. And if they were just orks...

Between the small gaps in the metal wall were positioned the grentchins and the small notlings, who despite their size were not afraid of the battle. Although when the weapons were too big and had to be carried by two or more he did not back down. Not even when the allied orks themselves laughed at them when they fired and the butt hit sent them flying backwards. They had dreamed for this moment, and nothing would take it away from them.

Then, the attacking leader gave the long-awaited war cry. His call was joined by all the orks under his command, who charged like a powerful green tide against the shield wall.

The two sides clashed, and the earth itself trembled before them. The machetes were brandished in both directions, and the bullets and explosions did not differentiate between friend and foe. The corpses began to pile up one after another, but for an ork... For an ork that was the reason for living.

Fight until your last breath and follow the ork who is capable of finding good fights. That's all. Nothing else is needed to be happy in Ork philosophy. One is born to fight, fights to live, and lives on the battlefield.

The grentchins and snotlings did not escape this resolution, and the fact that they could die on the battlefield and not like a cockroach in some abandoned place filled them with joy. Making even their war cry as loud as that of the orks themselves. The attackers looked at this band of tadpoles with gratitude and thought it was funny and insignificant, but it blew their minds when those they believed to be their victims became their executioners. Now that was a decent way to live...

But in the center of the battlefield, the war cry stood out more than others. The enemy leader was a pristine man three meters tall, almost as tall as some of the primarchs of the empire, but not even 1% of his power. Even so, its large metal claws and improvised bolter wreaked havoc on the defending forces.

The leader laughed while his weapons cut the flesh of his enemies. With a single lunge he brought down the central section of the shield wall, unleashing an uncontrolled battlefield in his wake. Hundreds of orks accompanied him, fighting as fiercely as their leader, but not even the most powerful beasts in the universe could stop the approaching shadow.

Due to his size, Kanan did not stand out on the battlefield, but the heads flying in his path clearly indicated where he was. His strambolic sword was ugly but deadly, and in Kanan's hands it seemed to simply dance across the battlefield, leaving a trail of death and blood in its wake. And for someone who mastered the closed sword style, this was child's play.

The enemy leader laughed pleased as he saw how his troops were flying like flies before that invisible presence that was approaching. He knew who he was even without having seen him, smiling from ear to ear at the idea of ​​fighting a worthy opponent.

Then he saw him, breaking the last defense in his path, Kanan penetrated between the formations, alone and without any armor. The leader was surprised to see him up close, with almost all of his body exposed, and brandishing a sword that was half his height. His bolter had run out of ammunition a while ago, so he simply left it lying in some dirty corner of the battlefield.

The enemy leader roared at the sight. Not because he was smaller and lacked metal in his body would he take it lightly. That strange white-haired ork killed countless orks in his forces to get to him. So he must be an excellent warrior... and much more.

Kanan was fast enough to close the distance, preventing the warlord from using his bolter to attack from a distance, forcing him to use his metal claws that he had in his other hand.

Taking advantage of his size advantage, the chieftain raised his claws and swung them at Kanan with relentless force, yet the white-haired ork managed to evade his attack. The last thing the leader saw was the battlefield turning around, unable to understand why.

When the warlord lowered his claws, Kanan deflected it in a simple movement, then raised his sword with all his strength, decapitating the warlord before he could even react.

The orks around them couldn't believe it. Their leader's head now hung from the white-haired ork's hand, as his massive body fell onto the crimson sands stained with the blood of battle. It was only a second. One second and it was all over. The attackers were paralyzed at the sight, having lost their most trusted weapon in an instant. His determination.

The defending Orks, Grentchins and Snotlings shouted in victory, as they watched their opponents drop their weapons, still stunned as they stared at their leader's head stuck on a spear in the middle of the battlefield. But Kanan did not shout or make any gesture to celebrate his victory, and only a few were able to see him in that state. Allies and enemies, everyone looked with curiosity at the white-haired ork, whose gaze did not rest on the corpse of his enemy or on his recent victory. His gaze rested on an endless sky of fire and blood painted by the sunset. There was no doubt, and everyone around him was aware of it, this very different ork had a much grander path ahead of him.

Already in the darkness of the night, the defenders celebrated their victory in style. War cries, silly games, and the occasional unnecessary death were how a real ork had fun. Still, not everything was happiness and joy inside the fort. The orks taken as prisoners now leaned on their knees against the floor, waiting for what they were going to do with them. An ork taken prisoner? An ork taking prisoners? What was happening in that place? No one could guess an answer that made any sense to Ork thinking. But that answer came to them silently and menacingly.

From the darkness of the night, the champion who defeated his leader in less than a second appeared before them. The freshness of the wind made his only silver hair wave under the little light of the moon. The few lanterns could barely see his face, but more than afraid, they were curious to know what was about to happen. Fear? That's something an ork from the year 40,000 doesn't know.

Orko: - What do we do with them? - Asked the same ork who stood guard at the doors of the fortress.

Kanan: - Call everyone. -

At his order the rest of the orks obeyed immediately. They didn't know what Kanan was going to do, but if he was calling every Ork in the fortress it must be important. Still, Kanan didn't seem very happy, even though every ork in the place was present. Whether on the roofs, the walls, even perched on top of each other.

Orko: - My lord, here are all the orkos. -

Kanan: - I said... To... Everyone. -

Kanan's voice was as sharp as his sword, and it wasn't for nothing. The ork knew what he meant almost immediately, and with a group he went to look for those who were missing. From among the huge ranks of great orks appeared the grentchins and the little notlings. Everyone was surprised to see them, as surprised as they themselves were to wonder why they had been summoned. Generally an ork chieftain doesn't even care about such insignificant creatures.

Orko: - Mi zeñor, ya étanto todoz. -

Kanan: - Very good. -

Everyone looked up as the white-haired ork stood on a makeshift platform, a place where every greenskin present, whether ally or enemy, could see them. Kanan puffed out his chest with a mixture of rage and disdain, and spoke to everyone present in the hope that his words would be understood.

Kanan: - I'M GOING TO BE VERY CLEAR WITH EVERYONE! I HAVE NO INTEREST IN BECOMING YOUR LEADER! I CARE MUCH LESS ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS! - The murmur among those present was noticeable. - BUT I CAN TELL YOU ONE THING! I DON'T THINK I'D DIE IN BATTLES AS PATHETIC AS THOSE OF TODAY! -

The orks were stunned. Pathetic? How could such an exciting battle have been something pathetic? None of those present had felt so much adrenaline in their bodies since their birth. But Kanan's words were not finished yet.

Kanan: - MY DEATH IS WRITTEN BEYOND THE STARS! BEYOND THE CONFINES OF THE GALAXY! AND MY BED WILL BE STAINED BY THE BLOOD OF MY ENEMIES ON THE LAND ITSELF! AND ONLY WHEN THE HEAD OF THE GOD EMPEROR OF HUMANITY RESTS IN MY HANDS! -

Did you hear correctly? Was this a dream? The minds of the orks could not even imagine how many great battles could arise in the path of this strange ork, and thinking about it only made their blood boil.

Kanan: - CONQUERING THESE LANDS WILL ONLY BE A MINOR STEP! THOSE WHO ARE WILLING TO FOLLOW ME ARE WELCOME! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU ONCE RAISED YOUR SWORD AGAINST ME, IF YOU ARE WILLING TO RAISE IT AGAINST MY ENEMIES, YOU WILL BE WELCOME! AND IF NOT... WE WILL SEE EACH OTHER IN HELL! -

The greenskin blood had reached its boiling point. Everyone present stood up, with their arms raised, clamoring and shouting with euphoria. Stormy times of bloody and violent war were approaching. Times that the orks had long awaited. And there, in the depths of the warp, a god laughed satisfied at his peculiar champion and the blood that his hatred promised to spill.