Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 334: Cold Joke

"This place is completely unusable without being cleaned and disinfected. I thought it would be less disgusting after being exposed to the high temperatures of the melta bombs and the exploding power furnace."

After a group of people rushed to the nearest high ground in a sea of ​​feces and tried to climb out, rushing out of the "gap" and triggering the highest level biochemical alarm of the automatic servo skull, they were now squatting in the large bathing room of the Crown Coronation and looking at each other in embarrassment.

There were no servants or maids to help. It was because the jar of spoiled pickled organ soup that had been fermenting for nine thousand years was so smelly that it was difficult for a mortal wearing a mask to continue working next to the water exchange and filtration unit.

The instigator, His Highness Conrad Black and White Longhair Coze, was licking his paw nonchalantly on a low couch beside him. The King of Night, who was also drenched in shit for 0.1 seconds, was about to go berserk when he suddenly remembered that he was now a summoned beast. He immediately made the fastest judgment in his life, and immediately eliminated his existence in the physical universe with a paw and immediately escaped into another space to avoid the terrible stench taking root in his body.

Only his own body, offspring and subordinates were left in the physical universe, being hunted by the smelly and sticky fermented and dissolved soup.

"Will the witch Salamas survive again before we go back again, my lord?" asked Charles. His strong muscles were covered with new and old scars. Water droplets slid across the uneven skin surface and the nerve interfaces with obvious scratches. Some of the wounds seemed to have been healed completely by his own recovery power, without any medical treatment at all.

"Whether it will or not." Ramizane sighed and stretched his limbs in the hot water that was changed in for the twentieth time and added with disinfectant. His hair was still scrubbed and groomed by the brave Lufricks and his hunting group. The Weeping Eyes claimed that it would be disrespectful to use the servitors instead for such an honor. "I will ask that next time when I return with equipment and enough manpower, I will give priority to using the heavy flamethrowers of the Eradicator Squad and compound disinfectant to thoroughly clean this place."

"It might be safer to just blow it up, my Lord..."

Dietrian's angry protest immediately came from the machinery-specific irradiation disinfection and cleaning room next door.

"Oh, Holy Screwdriver of the Ohm Messiah! How dare you make such a foolish suggestion! You barbarian! You are a brainless muscleman who does not understand its true meaning and value!"

"Oh." Ciel shrugged nonchalantly. "Ditrian really cares about this weird thing. He wasn't this angry the last time we broke our power armor into pieces while covering the rear of the Black Legion and fighting a murder duel."

"Because the mutation caused by this thing is not mentioned for now... In terms of academic value, the Ulan Huda Forge World is like a unique treasure for the followers of the Myriad Machines Cult. After all, although it was born in the Ghoul Star Cluster and is actually a fusion of many human, heretic and even alien technologies, its origin was indeed a paradisiacal human federation forge world in a beautiful age that was so ancient that it was beyond your imagination."

There was silence in the big bath for a while. Everyone who had witnessed the ashes, rust, and mummies of Ulan Huda and the rotting and crazy appearance of its final mistress was chewing over the contrast between these words and what they had seen in their hearts.

"What is the Federation? My Lord? You used this word before the human forge world. This is rare and does not seem to have the usual meaning."

(Oh, this concept is indeed too early for him, but I guess he asked this just to use it in a fashionable way in his melancholy poetry writing - by the way, if I had to send someone to go undercover in the current Clarks family, I would definitely choose Makutian, perfect!)
"Ah, this, something we can't use right now, you don't have to go into it for now, Makutian."

"And, I must say that it is fortunate that we found it, the newly born Midnight Sons. I don't want this relic forge world, which can almost be called the 'Mechanical Tyranid Mother Nest', to have any possibility of falling into the hands of any enemy now or in the future, especially!" Ramizarn raised a finger until he made sure that everyone was paying full attention to his words, "Never hand it and your secrets to anyone who does not hold the joint permission of the four Primarchs and the Imperial Regent Seal at the same time."

"...Pfft!"

“Hahahaha! Cough cough! I actually choked!”

"That's ridiculous. Absolutely."

"Hahahaha! Does such a license really exist? You are so humorous, my lord! This is the funniest joke I have heard this year!" "In that case, we need to set up genetic anti-counterfeiting for this requirement."

The First Fiery Claws surrounding the Gene-Father's bathing pool were laughing so hard that they were bent over.

"That is to say, the only ones who can be confirmed to be still active today are the lackeys of the false emperor and the so-called great enemies of the empire... your brothers, right? Does the empire of corpses have a regent now? The regent of the empire we know is no longer alive... You actually want to say that we should not associate with those Chaos, right, my lord? We have followed your teachings for thousands of years, my lord. Please rest assured."

"Yes... That's right. Just understand it this way for now."

(*How do you two make irrelevant statements and guesses and then make them consistent?)
"You've asked them to do this job many times before, so of course they are very skilled."

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On the other side, the new lounge of the 3rd Company of the Origin Regiment.

"This is……"

The condition of Aeneas and Ptolemy, which was like the aftermath of a biological war, made the others feel distressed.

"It's terrible. These heretics are blasphemous and polluting. Our mechanical priests reported that the corrupt mud is difficult to clean up. It is even attached with warp sorcery... Are they going to let you rush in as their vanguard? Aeneas!"

The veteran adjutant who was asked wiped his short hair tiredly, then applied disinfectant to his neural interface.

"Laris, I told you. Do your thing."

"Can……"

Ptolemyon's voice came from another disinfection room, "Laris, perhaps you should talk to Penateus."

"That traitor! I will never——"

"Shut up." Aeneas opened his pale grey eyes and stared sternly at Larius until the latter lowered his head in shame.

The room was silent for a moment as the other members stared at their leader in silence.

"This is the Emperor's will. If He wants us to do this hard labor, there must be a reason for it." Aeneas said at last, "You must be prepared to die here. Larus, and all of you."

(End of this chapter)