I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 129 Flying Low Proves My High Level

Ruan Wenbo leaned back in his chair in the command center, his fingers lightly tapping the table, his gaze fixed on the holographic screen in front of him. The screen displayed a post from the official forum, its popularity rating climbing at an alarming rate.

The post's title is simple and direct: "[The Final Solution for the Dark Eldar]".

Poster ID: BUG.

Ruan Wenbo clicked on the post and quickly browsed through the bizarre and convoluted description, from the chance encounter with the Ghost Face Squad to using the heads of believers as a stepping stone, and then to summoning the Slaanesh to take away the Dark Eldar on the spot...

"The Dark Eldar were actually dealt with in this way?" Ruan Wenbo couldn't help but exclaim, his tone a mixture of surprise and a hint of amusement.

"I originally thought we'd have to rely on the space wolves, or at least spend months, or even a whole year, dealing with them on the planet to completely resolve this threat..."

He wasn't too worried that the story was fabricated. If it were, the post would become a huge joke once the Dark Eldar arrived as scheduled, and it would be exposed very quickly. Right now, the post was so popular that practically every player of the game knew about it.

In this game, forum IDs and game IDs are forcibly synchronized. If a lie is exposed, the poster will be constantly reminded of it wherever they go, and they'll be unable to continue playing the game.

“However… to protect that judge’s life, it’s best not to put this matter on paper in the game.” Ruan Wenbo rubbed his chin and muttered to himself, “After all, the methods used are a bit too unorthodox. If he accidentally sees the record, he might have to kill me to silence me…”

……

Crona felt a pang of regret.

He felt he really shouldn't have acted so impulsively and agreed to board the Valkyrie gunboats of the Legion of the Dead for an attack on the orc lines.

Because these mortals are just fucking insane!
"Too low! Too low!" Judge Herbert, gripping the handles in the cockpit with an expression that looked like he'd been constipated for half a month, pounded on the cockpit door and shouted, "I swear I can hear those green-skinned drooling! Can't you lift it a little?! At least a hundred meters off the ground!"

"It's only thirty meters, don't worry, I'm confident." The pilot's voice, coming through the communicator, was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "This kind of ultra-low-altitude ground-skimming flight is a piece of cake for me. The lower you fly, the more impressive your skills are, understand? If I climb any higher, my colleagues will laugh at me when I get back."

"By the Emperor! This is blatant murder!" Herbert roared. The Valkyrie executed a violent side maneuver, dodging a rocket fired from the ground. Everyone in the cabin was thrown about.

"Alright, behave yourself," Crona said coldly, forcibly balancing himself. He had to maintain his dignity as the Wolf Lord. "Since the warriors of the Death Legion dare to fly like this, they must have their reasons. They are true warriors, and I believe in them."

That's what he said, but Croner had already made up his mind. If there was a next time, he would absolutely, positively never ride in any of the aircraft piloted by the deceased.

As for Herbert, his face was so dark it looked like it could be wrung out.

As an Inquisitor, he had imagined his own death countless times. Some imagined it as his research into and summoning of demons being exposed, leading to his colleagues condemning him as an extreme heretic and sending him to the stake after a solemn trial; others imagined him dying a glorious death in battle while pursuing the Empire's enemies; still others imagined him being unknowingly corrupted by the whispers of the Warp, betraying the Emperor, and ultimately being executed by the other Inquisitors…

Each ending is filled with tragedy, destiny, and the weight a judge should bear, as well as the kind of death that other judges have also suffered.

But there is absolutely no such thing as dying from an "accidental plane crash"! The way the suicide squad flies planes is just too wild!
Just as the Valkyrie narrowly missed the side of a mountain once again, and even the battle-hardened Space Marine, Crona, felt his stomach churning and was about to vomit up his treasured Fenris mead, the pilot's relaxed whistle finally came through the communicator. "Brothers in the cockpit, get ready, we're approaching our destination."

In an instant, everyone in the cabin breathed a long sigh of relief. Finally, they could finally escape this cabin that felt like a cement mixer.

"boom--"

The heavy rear hatch slowly opened, and blinding sunlight and a deafening "WAAAGH!" roar rushed in.

As far as the eye could see, there was an endless green ocean. Countless green-skinned creatures brandished crude weapons, roaring and surging together, forming a true tide of flesh and blood. And their Valkyrie was hovering less than thirty meters above this ocean.

Everyone in the cabin couldn't help but start thinking about the same question: How did he manage to perfectly avoid the attacks of thousands of green-skinned creatures below while flying at such a low altitude?

If the pilots at that moment knew what they were thinking, they would probably just shrug: If you were shot down a dozen times, you would definitely fly as smoothly as I do, as if you were one with the machine.

Despite their doubts, everyone in the cabin jumped out without the slightest hesitation.

"For Ruth! For the whole Father!"

The space wolves roared and leaped from the hatch. Wielding their chainsaw swords and power axes, they sliced ​​through the rough flesh of the greens like red-hot blades cutting into butter.

The leader, Krona, wielded a giant axe, each sweep of which created a cloud of blood mist, severing the lives and bodies of dozens of greenskins.

Surprisingly, Herbert, being a mortal, also performed admirably in this role.

"For the Emperor!" he roared, pushing his left hand forward. Dazzling psionic lightning erupted from his palm, instantly turning the crowded green-skinned people in front of him into sizzling charcoal.

At the same time, a light even brighter than the sun suddenly shone on the horizon not far away.

Immediately afterwards, a massive mushroom cloud rose into the sky. Dust obscuring visibility and a violent shockwave followed. The Space Wolves, clad in power armor, only swayed slightly before regaining their footing; their thick terracotta armor was sufficient to shield them from most of the nuclear radiation. Herbert, with his psionic protection, firmly blocked the shockwave.

But the greens weren't so lucky. They were thrown into chaos on the spot. The nuclear explosions sent them sprawling and trampling each other in the confusion.

"Hahahaha!" Crona roared with laughter as he watched the spectacular scene. "I love the style of these suicide bombers! Nuclear cover is way more exciting than artillery cover! It feels like a Titan is supporting us! Wolf cubs, charge!"

The wolf guards roared in fury: "For Ruth! For the whole Father!"

(End of this chapter)