I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 178 The Ones Who Went to Their Deaths: The Crimson Agreement? Never heard of it.
Wick's core logic subconsciously generated a comment: This looks a bit like a cult performing a mass sacrifice.

But his survival instinct instantly overwhelmed the judgment of doctrine. Knowing that his life was completely in the other party's hands, he ultimately deleted that fatal remark, along with the related binary code, from the mind matrix.

Wick forced himself to look away from the blazing, acrid pit, and then he discovered something else that made his cognitive module anything but calm.

For example, a large number of spheres painted with red and black stripes are floating orderly in mid-air. They are transported by built-in anti-gravity devices, and modular prefabricated components are cut and assembled with precise laser beams. A large number of sturdy fortifications are rising from the ground at a speed visible to the naked eye.

If that were all, it would be fine; at most, it would be considered a simple AI that treads the red line of the Crimson Protocol. Many maverick priests or sages in the Cult of Mechanics have dabbled in it, since what the doctrine explicitly forbids is "abominable intelligence" that possesses a clear self and is capable of independent thought and action.

But Wick soon discovered that these mechs were far more intelligent than "simple." They could even plan optimal transport routes on their own and proactively avoid various obstacles based on the situation. What sent chills down his spine even further was that he witnessed a mech being petted twice by a passing soldier on his deathbed, and then the sphere emitted a soft glow and floated up and down lightly, clearly expressing a... happy emotion.

This blatant anthropomorphism goes beyond simply crossing the line. Clearly, such a small sphere cannot contain a biological brain as a wet component.

However, for the sake of his own life, Wick chose to treat these things as... well, intelligent mechs with extremely high privileges. Yes, that's it.

At the same time, a deeper worry began to grip his mind. What kind of enemy did this strange "support" force intend to face here?
As everyone knows, in this brutal galaxy, stronger support doesn't guarantee your safety. On the contrary, stronger support means a larger war, and your life is increasingly precarious.

Just as Wick was filled with worry, something else caught his attention: several Astronautical soldiers dragged several humans, tightly bound, from a chimera transport vehicle. These people were clearly not fully conscious, with dazed and intoxicated expressions on their faces, and were being dragged by the suicide squad to the very center of the island.

Wick didn't want to ask any more questions, but Bonnie walked over and said in a boastful tone, "See those guys? Guess what their role is?"

“I…can’t guess,” Wick answered honestly.

“Heh heh,” Bonnie chuckled smugly, “They are wild psykers we captured in the Lower Nest area and brought here after we controlled them. The reason they are in this state is because they were injected with ‘Rosemary’—a potent drug that I personally developed. It can extremely stimulate their brains, making their consciousness more active than ever before, but they have no control over their bodies at all; even blinking is a luxury.”

Bonnie continued, "As for the purpose of bringing them here... it's simple: to keep them conscious and constantly connected to the warp. That way, when they lose contact with the warp, the immense mental backlash will definitely produce a violent reaction; their heads might even explode like watermelons!"

Bonnie had already said so much, Wick naturally understood. His speaker crackled with shock: "The enemy you're about to face... can sever the connection between reality and the warp?!"

Wick ran his fingers through his own logic several times, scrambling to access all the databases on technology: "I've never heard of any such technology existing in the galaxy..."

“Peditia has them,” Bonnie said casually, “Well… but Peditia’s aren’t large-scale; they’re mostly just their scouts.” “I see.” Wick nodded knowingly, a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. “So you obtained accurate intelligence about their planned invasion from this coordinate point by interrogating their scouts?”

There were so many flaws in that statement that Pingjie and the others didn't know how to respond for a moment. In the end, Pingjie simply chose not to explain: "You'll know when they arrive."

Wick was clearly completely relieved. In his view, since these people possessed such accurate intelligence, they must have made thorough preparations. Even if these Ascendant Army soldiers didn't seem to care much about their own lives, surely these three high-ranking Mechanicus priests would value their lives? As long as he was cautious, he had a good chance of surviving.

Unfortunately, no matter how much Wick thought about it, he couldn't believe that anyone could come back from the dead. They did indeed possess accurate intelligence about the attacking enemy, but precisely because of this, no one thought they could return alive.

Having obtained what he considered a reasonable explanation, Wick's anxiety finally subsided temporarily. He began to observe the unit's island-modification project from the perspective of a technical priest.

Then, the heart that had just settled down jumped into his throat even faster.

The entire island had been transformed into a massive construction site, filled with deafening roars. The soldiers, ready to die, operated all sorts of unheard-of engineering equipment with astonishing efficiency. Modular alloy walls were hoisted and assembled like building blocks, then welded shut by mechs using lasers, and one impregnable fortress after another rose from the ground.

Amidst this construction frenzy, the most eye-catching elements were the red and black spheres. Like a diligent swarm of bees, or a site supervisor, they directed everything. They precisely coordinated the operation of each automated machine, calculating the optimal construction plan. Under their command, the entire renovation project was free of any redundancy or waste.

What truly terrified Wick was the sheer number of anti-aircraft gun emplacements, far exceeding the number found in any normal defensive position. These emplacements were not manually operated, but possessed independent target acquisition and fire control systems. The emplacements deployed automatically, their multi-barreled guns rotating gracefully, silently scanning every inch of airspace, like steel behemoths already awakened, waiting for their prey to come to them.

All of this... all of this equipment, materials, and machinery was transported from that small frigate on the track.

Can a frigate carry this much stuff?
Wick's logic circuits raced, retrieving parameters from every Imperial frigate model he knew. The conclusion was negative. This defied all common sense! Unless... unless this frigate underwent a radical overhaul, eliminating most of the areas necessary for the crew's survival and converting all space into cargo holds.

In this situation, there is probably only one way to maintain the normal operation of an interstellar warship... Wick glanced at the efficient and "lively" red and black spheres floating around in the air.

He silently turned around, picked up his geological exploration equipment, and chose to continue the work he had not finished.

(End of this chapter)