Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 333 Red Peak (Note 1)
"This type of power armor is very old." Dietrian, who came from behind, immediately began to teach his apprentice with great interest, "Look, these characteristics... Oh, this is a very old Mark II fragment, and there are some unusual impacts and severe ablation marks here... And from the situation of the fragments, it seems that more than one Fifth Legion soldier died here..."

"Okay, Dietrian, the teaching time can be postponed." The black and white cat on Ramizane's shoulder had its hair standing on end, clinging to his high shoulders and refusing to get down, which made everyone alert. However, this cave, which was dozens of meters long, wide and high and filled with dead organic and inorganic matter, was still pitch black, except for some unusual odor molecules and dust that were stirred up and captured by the Astartes' sensitive genetically modified organs.

Although the "psychic" creations of the Lord of Night have prevented them from being affected too much by the crazy ruins here, the smell factor is still subtle.

That was the smell of machinery and flesh fully integrated into one and then burned by high-energy.

Not the normal smell of war relics.

The Night Lords, masters of the flesh arts, are certain of this.

Flesh and blood are like machines, and machines are like flesh and blood. Things without souls have the flexibility of living things.

They tasted the dark machines that were more heretical than heresy, and the hungry, rotten smell of flesh and blood creations fused together by the terrible energy of the warp. As Dietrian said, "Even for me, who left Mars and wandered on the edge of darkness for ten thousand years, I find it too blasphemous."

Bolter, heavy bolter, chain axe and power sword were raised silently.

The smell of dead people and dead machines became stronger, with an unbearable fishy and scorching heat.

The hunting vision of the Night Lords, which can see all living things, is still pitch black.

"This is not a normal temperature, and it is certainly not a realistic temperature. Otherwise we would not be able to see it."

"Stand behind us!" Charles raised his new thunder hammer and shouted loudly, pressing the switch of the force field. The crackling energy field began to jump on the hammer head. He strode forward with Ptolemy, who held a gun and his highly defensive golden eagle shield and moved forward with Charles.

“Your Highness!” Dietrian had already begun to lead his apprentice, who was desperately covering his ears, to the corner of the entrance. “You said that the command center and power source here are dormant!”

"I did." Ramizane stood back calmly, and his black and white cat jumped down and began to arch its back and growl with its fur standing up in the darkness. The Lord of Night turned on the light at that place. "But this thing is not alive, so it's hard to judge its sleeping quality."

When the huge black shadow was crawling towards them on the ground with several metal limbs, they initially thought it was a giant mechanical insect - a spider or something similar - and Dietrian raised his high-energy pulse gun confidently.

Amid the indescribable stench of a swamp filled with corpses, the thick vapor of heated motor oil, the murmurs of countless murdered people over ten thousand years, billions of human souls that had been cut and gnawed into pieces but could not be dissipated and their resentment, and the strange laughter of warp creatures hovering above the rotting corpses as if attracted, a shape that could only appear from the most primitive and deepest nightmare emerged before everyone's eyes.

“…Holy ASS!”

"Oh my God, the Big Spanner of the Messiah!"

Someone cursed out loud.

What appeared before them was a creation that could not be fully accurately described using normal language.

When the Lord of the Night projected a faint beam of light onto her, people saw countless internal organs rolling in the transparent amniotic fluid chamber formed by the metal frame: some adults, some children, some humans, and some aliens. The tentacles of the metal machinery penetrated all the flesh and blood, weaving a web of wreckage that was swollen and deformed by the rotting amniotic fluid in her huge bulging belly.

Yes, almost everyone was surprised to the point of disbelief to find that the neck of this blasphemous creation was not a head, but a female figure also made of rusted metal and rotten flesh and bones. It was connected to the organs in the culture tank below with various cables, as if she relied on them to absorb the slurry with a strong smell of ammonia and indole and concentrated fermented nutrients for survival.

She even had extremely long, tangled hair, but a closer look revealed that those hair-like things flew in the air like some kind of tentacle or the head of an eyeless carnivorous hagfish, with tiny, shiny, hungry nano-teeth and micro-drills at the ends of them. It was obvious that any unfortunate guy thrown in would be immediately drilled into a porous flesh sponge.

The woman on the huge object that crawled over raised her head and roared at the uninvited guests with her black, long, toothless mouth from behind her messy hair. At first, they thought she was speaking a language they couldn't understand or the roar of a beast. But then they understood what she was saying, and without any instructions, the muzzle flashes of the bolt guns lit up at the same time, and several hot melt grenades were thrown accurately at the monster.

"Hungry!" she roared. "Food! Give me!"

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"The Throne of Lies!"

"The throne is up there!"

"What exactly is this?!"

After a round of heavy bombardment, the uninvited guests discovered that her movements were slower than they seemed, because although she was large enough, the strange swollen organ was not her foot. Those spider-like limbs showed a simplicity, crudeness and clumsiness that was inconsistent with her main body. She seemed to move fast only because she was large enough.

So although those grenade launchers failed to break the enemy's defense, the melta grenades obviously caused damage and made her afraid. She cursed them viciously, but her desire for fresh food made her linger around. The ancient and rotten armor and cables were torn off in one precise defensive attack after another, and her sharp claws and long hair also tore through the ceramic steel of the Space Marines. The little bit of flesh and blood she ate made her more eager, and she attacked them like a hyena.

"The Witch of Salamas," a voice said. "Once the Great Sage and Mistress of Ulan Huda. Now a being that knows nothing but the appetite to survive."

"Ulan Huda?! Star Hunter?! Planet Devouring Engine?!" Apparently someone recognized this term. "I thought it had been broken into pieces or destroyed when it escaped into the warp!"

"Obviously, it is almost destroyed. The central furnace should have been destroyed by the True Golden Khan and his White Scars warriors in a desperate assault. Most of the power was lost when it jumped to the vicinity of Thessaguatha. But it radiates chaotic biomechanical energy outward in the warp. The attack focused on one of her limbs. These should be inferior materials pieced together later. She was cut in half by Lion El'Jonson in the last battle and lost her ability to move. Otherwise, we wouldn't have it so easy—"

Following a sharp howl and an even louder scream from the mad witch, the fermented viscera jar that was tightly protected by broken metal and a gleaming shield began to crack, and the cracks began to spread like cracks on ice along the part where the claws pierced.

The triumphant black and white long-haired cat emerged from the crevice beneath the blasphemous organ sludge tank, and no one noticed when he jumped there.

(*Why don't you solve it the most certain way we see? I can do it while you guys are chatting there...)
“…Run! It’s bad!!!!!!!”

Followed by a slight sound like ice cracking.

A stench like a mixture of sewer swill baked by the scorching sun, seabird entrails that had been fermenting in the stomachs of sea beasts for three years, spoiled canned pickled herrings, and the excrement and vomit of a gastroenteritis patient quickly filled the almost enclosed space.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Guess why I... vomit... don't... need to... vomit..."

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(Note 1: I have researched the place name Ulan Huda. According to Mongolian, the closest name to Ulan Huda should be Ulan Hada, the red mountain. Some people would say Chifeng in Inner Mongolia, which is also correct. However, the one that better fits the characteristics of the Forged World is the Ulan Hada Volcanic Geological Park in Inner Mongolia, because the mountains here are all named after alchemy furnaces, and they will be listed first in English tourist maps. The name of alchemy furnace + Ulan Hada is almost certainly borrowed from the name here)

(End of this chapter)