Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 48 Creating a Legend

"My lord! For your victory, for the complete victory over the Greenskins, I am willing to forsake all past honors!"

Harlan's rough voice was firm and resolute. His answer surprised and impressed everyone in the command room.

Harlan Ogrivi is a man who values ​​honor extremely, and he will harbor a long-standing grudge against Xilan because of the gains and losses of honor.

The most formidable force on the battlefield. Slaying generals, capturing flags, charging into enemy lines, and being the first to scale the walls, they face the enemy's blade head-on, earning countless praises and honors.

His fame resounded throughout Nur, and his enemies were deeply impressed by him. Their champions' defeat to Harlan was not a disgrace but an honor.

Even among the orcs, there are praises for him.

At this crucial moment, Doom's plan needed fame, and Harlan needed to give up everything he had gained in the past for victory.

"Very good!" He reached out and pulled the champion swordsman up, patting him on the shoulder with an affirmative look in his eyes.

Doom himself doesn't value honors much, but Haaland's contributions are still admirable.

Sacrifice is not an obligation; when someone sacrifices for the greater good, they deserve to be remembered by those who benefit from it.

"Let's go, Ms. Erica, I'll need your help later."

Doom, along with Harlan and the dazed Stealth Master, left the command room and headed towards the orc settlement.

Erica is an indispensable and equally important part of the plan.

As for command tasks, communication will not be a problem within the scanning range of the war fortress.

Even while on the front lines, Doom could still transmit precise commands in a timely manner through sensors attached to the back of his ears.

"What do you want to do?" Erica's beautiful face was humble. Seeing the War Lord's almost artistic and precise wisdom, she was deeply impressed and felt uneasy about her own recklessness.

Such rationality, such foresight and extraordinary wisdom—even his own entry into the command center was within his calculations.

"No need to be alarmed!" Doom maintained his stern expression, but his voice softened considerably to soothe her panicked heart: "For the victory of the war, I intend to create a legend among the orcs!"

Doom devoured the orcs, gaining knowledge of the orc race and making many bold assumptions.

Orcs possess a kind of idealistic energy field, and the more orcs gather together and reach a greater consensus on a certain issue, the more clearly that mysterious energy manifests.

The orcs' war machines are the best proof of that.

By human standards, the garbage truck cobbled together by the orcs is completely immobile, but when driven by the orcs, it can run. Painted red, these war machines can run even faster and longer.

They guarded the underground core furnace of the main domain, the forging academy that trained technical talents, and confidently delved into the research of orc machinery, only to reap pitiful rewards in the end.

However, an unexpected phenomenon was discovered.

Orcs can build weapons of war from all sorts of junk, and even imitate the Night Guard to cobble together junk power armor.

There's only one thing they can't use—Nur crystal.

To the orcs, crystals were worthless stones.

They don't imitate humans when they see them using it, as if the Nuer Crystal doesn't exist in their minds.

Their unique idealistic force fields also make it difficult to drive the crystals; the guarding spears and swords are no better than a rusty junk knife to the orcs.

In Doom's plan, the orcs' mind field was very valuable and would be perfect for eliminating the orcs.

"Create an orc legend?" Erica frowned, softly repeating Doom's words, carefully pondering their meaning.

Suddenly her expression changed, and her sexy voice trembled as she suppressed her emotions: "What you're doing is too dangerous!"

"Danger?"

"What do you think this is? Is there anything on a battlefield that isn't dangerous?" Doom's gentle voice suddenly turned sharp, his piercing gaze going straight into Erica's blue eyes. The innate pressure from the Primarch made her break out in a cold sweat.

"Our soldiers are in danger. I have many ways to end the war as quickly as possible, but this is the fastest!"

"Or do you have a better way, ma'am?"

Doom's tone suddenly became expectant as he pointed to his ear: "I'm all ears!"

“I don’t have your talent.” Erica turned her face away, not even daring to look Doom in the eye.

"Then follow my instructions! Execute the tactical orders I request."

Doom gazed into the distance, continuing to plan the details in his mind, preparing to complete this crucial step.

The massive war fortress moved with the battlefield, stopping in a low-lying area far from the orc settlements to avoid being discovered and becoming a target.

Doom climbed a low hill alone, without needing any telescopic equipment; his extraordinary vision allowed him to see the scene more than ten kilometers away.

The orcs were lured together by the anti-gravity motorcycle driven by the rangers.

The savage creatures roared, shoving and fighting amongst themselves. Their twisted features were hideous and ugly, their grotesque mouths opening and closing, revealing rotten, jagged teeth. Just as Doom had expected, he clearly sensed it.

Numerous orcs gather together, fight each other, and then, under the influence of the mind field, the one who wins the most worship becomes their leader.

Doom smiled slightly. Now he was going to interrupt the process and then artificially create a new leader.

As the orcs gathered, the Night Guards also converged from all directions.

At the behest of the Warlord, a thousand-strong Night Guard launched an attack from the flank and rear, instantly drawing the orcs' attention.

They grinned maliciously, let out joyful roars, and charged forward in a mad rush.

The Night Guards, armed with large shields, advanced in defensive formation, continuously firing spears and swords at the swarming orcs.

The splattering blood from the cuts further fueled the orcs' frenzy; their eyes turned bloodshot as they roared with excitement, brandishing their weapons and charging towards the Night Guard lines.

"The mounted riders enter."

Multiple Rangers riding anti-gravity motorcycles entered the arena, activating protective force fields and cutting blades, charging back and forth along the paths marked out by the War Lord, cutting through the Orc formation.

"Long-range firepower strike!"

The shells and plasma landed precisely at their designated points, not aiming for widespread destruction, but rather, under Doom's precise control, creating enough chaos to disorient the orcs.

"Erica, you can have your men snipe!"

The master sniper's men are all clad in stealth suits that conceal their movements. They lie in wait in hidden positions, using long-range sniper rifles to hunt down key targets.

Following Doom's command, large orcs were visibly struck in the head amidst the chaotic horde, falling to the ground unwillingly.

Doom surveyed the battlefield with satisfaction; everything was proceeding according to his plan, step by step.

"It's your turn to enter, Harlan!"

"I am Harlan Ogrivey!" The motorcycle's megaphone amplified the champion swordsman's defiant roar throughout the battlefield: "You green-skinned cowards! Get your leader out here to fight me!"

A white figure wielding two lightsabers jumped off a motorcycle and crashed into the center of the orc horde, his deafening roar even drowning out the battle cries.

All the orcs' attention was drawn to him. Under Doom's manipulation, the Night Guard's offensive gradually slowed down, and they even retreated slowly to the edge of the battlefield.

The stage is set; it's time for the main characters to begin their performance!

Who is the leader of the orcs? There is no leader right now, but every ambitious orc boy wants to be the leader.

Harlan Oglieve!

The orc lads had heard of him, a powerful, big human who had killed many strong orc lads.

"Kill him! Kill him! Kid, if you kill him, you're the boss!"

A roar came from somewhere and quickly spread among the orcs—Kill Harlan Ogrivi! That's our leader!

"Well done, Erica!"

Doom praised the stealth master, who used her cloak of darkness to sneak into the orcish crowd and uttered those words.

For professionally trained assassins and lurkers, imitating the voice and tone of orcs is not difficult.

"Keep waiting, your task is not yet complete."

In the center of the stage, where everyone was watching, the duel began, and some orcs, taller than the average boy, challenged Harlan.

They spontaneously formed a circle, a sea of ​​green heads thronging the water, green-skinned animals craning their necks, waiting for the birth of their leader.

Orcs are unruly in every other aspect, but they are surprisingly disciplined when it comes to fighting.

The champion swordsman lived up to his name; the tall young man charged into the dueling circle, but couldn't last a single round before Harlan beheaded him.

Another orc charged forward, leaving another corpse on the ground.

For a full ten minutes, the duel circle expanded larger and larger, and Harlan fought with increasing ferocity, his longsword flashing wildly until the greenskins gradually fell silent.

"Is there no one else? Is this all the green-skinned guys can do?"

The orcs' idealistic force field backfired, and tens of thousands of greenskins felt that Harlan was invincible, gradually losing the courage to challenge him.

Just then, a cowardly voice rang out: "I challenge you!"

(I'm in terrible shape today. I didn't sleep well last night, and they were cutting roads and laying pipes next door. My head is spinning!)

I don't dare ask for votes anymore, sob sob! Special thanks to the generous donor!

(End of this chapter)