Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming

Chapter 113 The First Batch of Adamantite Ore Sites

Inside the bridge of the "Fuck Your Grandma" ship.

The red warning light had been blown up by Kolber with a single shot.

But the violent tremors coming from outside still reminded everyone that this place was not safe.

"boom!!"

Another loud bang, and the entire land-based ship tilted violently to the left by fifteen degrees.

The armor belt on the starboard side had just been hit by a direct shot from a 400mm cannon.

The shockwave from the explosion traveled up the ship's hull, sending the unsecured tables and chairs tumbling about. Several crew members' bodies slid down the sloping floor to the corner and piled up.

It was none other than the person who opened fire.

They are friendly forces.

To be precise, they were the ship's little brothers—the "Toilet" and the "Pile Driver" located to the side and rear.

The captains of the two landships had clearly fallen into a state of hysterical madness. After seeing the command system collapse, the bald man escape, and even the flags fall, they made the typical reaction of wasteland warlords.

Since it can't be saved, then destroy it.

The cargo, fuel, and the unknown intruders on board were all blown to pieces.

"Boss, we're about to go under."

Kolber gripped the armrest of the captain's chair with one hand to steady himself, while pressing the communicator with the other. His tone was unusually calm, completely disregarding the level of shelling.

"The enemy's shells use traditional gunpowder propulsion, which has a low initial velocity and insufficient penetration, making them unable to penetrate the core armor zone."

"But the ship's structure wasn't very robust to begin with, and if it shakes a few more times, the keel joints might break."

"Our people are fine. The servo balancing system of the elite power armor is working normally. The servants—the servants are walking upside down on the ceiling, completely unaffected."

Andy's voice came through the comms channel: "Let's retreat, the transport plane has arrived."

Through the broken observation window of the bridge, Kolber saw a heavy shuttle painted in dark gray industrial paint, hovering less than ten meters from the gap in the bridge amidst billowing smoke and stray bullets.

This distance is an insurmountable barrier for ordinary people.

Below is a drop of tens of meters; a fall from that height would mean certain death.

Moreover, the relative speed between the two sides is not zero. The landship is still rushing forward, while the shuttle is making fine adjustments. The relative positions of the two are constantly changing.

But for the Deep Space Industries forces, this was just a simple tactical maneuver.

"Evacuate everyone."

Kolber gave the order.

Thirty Type 2 fighter servants responded immediately, and the anti-gravity attitude balancers on their backs lit up with blue light.

This thing not only allows them to walk regardless of the terrain, but also provides them with brief levitation capabilities.

The servants lined up and jumped out through the gap.

In the air, the anti-gravity field canceled out the potential energy of the fall. Like a group of puppets pulled by invisible strings, they glided lightly across the abyss ten meters away and landed precisely on the shuttle's open rear door.

Next came the remaining nine elite soldiers.

They don't need anti-gravity.

High-pressure gas spewed from the nozzles on the back of the power armor, and the hydraulic pumps on the thighs roared.

"Thump!"

The heavy metal body soared into the air, tracing an arc, and crashed onto the shuttle floor. The magnetic boots instantly adhered to it, landing steadily.

Kolber was the last to leave.

Before leaving, he casually tore off the flashy gold-plated skull from the captain's chair as a souvenir of the mission.

"Walk!"

As the last passenger boarded.

The shuttle immediately gained altitude, its tail nozzles emitting a dazzling blue light, and instantly escaped this place of trouble.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the horizon.

The other two identical heavy shuttles, like two giant black bald men, pounced on the remaining two prey.

The ensuing battle was unremarkable.

The defensive capabilities of the "Toilet" and "Pile Driver" are not much stronger than those of the "Fuck Your Grandma"

Their captains may be more ruthless or more cunning, but in the face of an absolute technological gap, these qualities are meaningless.

When the second and third waves of warriors clad in power armor descended from the sky, and the bizarre fighter servants wreaked havoc everywhere, the outcome was already sealed.

Resistance is futile.

Automatic guns can only make a sound when they hit power armor, while a single volley from a high-explosive crossbow can clear an entire corridor.

In less than forty minutes.

The command systems of both land-based ships also subsequently failed.

Their engines shut down, their tracks stopped turning, and they came to a stop one after another in the wasteland sixteen kilometers from Horisonburg, billowing black smoke.

Thus, this siege, fueled by greed, came to an end in an almost cruel way.

The three steel behemoths, with a combined displacement of over 100,000 tons, have now become three mountains of scrap iron in front of the Horisonburg Gate.

Hollisenberg, studio.

Gamma-9 rubbed its hands together excitedly as it looked at the three gray markers on the holographic map that indicated "paralysis".

"My sage! What a great victory!"

"These three ships may be a bit ugly, but they carry real supplies!"

"I suggest that these three ships be towed back to the industrial area immediately."

"We can repair them and use them to build our own land-based naval fleet, or we can dismantle them altogether; their armor plates and keels are readily available building materials!"

Gamma-9 has a very clever plan.

In his view, acquiring three land-based ships for free, even if he dismantles them and sells them as scrap metal, would still bring him a large profit.

however.

Andy stared at the three names on the map, his face contorted with anguish, as if he had been struck by lightning.

"Take it back?"

Andy pointed to the mark that read "Toilet Number" and said exaggeratedly, "Gamma-9, are you serious??"

"You want me to tow a ship with a name like that into my clean and orderly industrial zone?!"

"Are you trying to cause irreversible mental pollution to my logical circuits?"

2

"And that paint job!"

Andy pulled up high-resolution photos taken by satellite.

The ship was covered with all sorts of obscene fertility totems and blasphemous symbols smeared with a mixture of bodily fluids and excrement from different creatures.

This kind of thing requires eye-cleaning surgery just by looking at it.

If we drag it back and put it in the square of Hollissenberg—

Andy felt that this was not only an aesthetic disaster, but also a devastating blow to the "Deep Space Industries" brand!

"No delay."

Andy refused decisively.

"These three piles of garbage are absolutely not allowed to enter the Horisonburg security perimeter."

"If anyone dares to pull this thing back, I'll shove it down the toilet of this ship and fire it out with the Hongcannon."

Gamma-9 shrank back, not daring to bring up the matter again.

But he still felt it was a bit of a pity.

"But—Sage, there are indeed many resources inside."

"Just that metal alone will last us a long time —"

"We still need resources," Andy said, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "But we can't just take everything like we're scavenging for scraps."

You need to know how to filter and purify.

Andy stood up, walked to the holographic map, and zoomed in on the three coordinates.

His gaze pierced through the grotesque paint schemes and names, locking onto the internal structure of the three ships.

In the Warhammer universe, even the worst ship, as long as it can move and fire its cannons, will definitely have high-value parts worth salvaging.

In particular, land-based ships converted from the wreckage of ancient starships often have a more solid foundation than they appear.

"Macro Cannon".

Andy pointed to the main gun on the back of the "Piledriver" that had been blown askew.

"This cannon has a caliber of 400mm and a barrel length of over 20 meters."

"In order to withstand the huge chamber pressure and high temperature during firing, the inner bore of this type of gun is usually cast using a high-purity heat-resistant alloy."

"In order to ensure strength, a certain proportion of refined gold is often added to the formula of this alloy."

Refined gold.

What Andy lacks most right now.

It cannot be synthesized through conventional means; it can only be obtained through mining or recycling.

Previously, when Andy designed the subspace engine, the reactor wall couldn't be fixed because it was stuck due to a lack of adamantite.

Now, isn't this delivered right to our doorstep?

It's not just about macro guns.

The gaze continued downwards, passing through the hull, and arrived at the engine room.

"And the engine's main drive shaft."

To drive such a massive iron behemoth weighing tens of thousands of tons across the wilderness, the torque exerted on the bearings would be astronomical.

Ordinary steel would have been twisted into a pretzel long ago, but even ceramic steel couldn't withstand it.

Only special steel infused with refined gold can withstand it.

Each of these three ships has at least two main shafts, six large cannons, and load-bearing beams in the core armored area.

"These, and these—are all rich mines."

At this point, Andy felt a pang of bitterness.

Before this, during those three months, although Deep Space Industries seemed to be thriving, only Andy himself knew how scarce his raw material sources were.

Apart from the stockpiles brought by Father Zor and the small amount of alien material spat out by the analysis station.

He actually relies on his past wealth to obtain most of his base metals.

Whose legacy are they living off?

Of course, it's Horisonburg's legacy.

In order to provide enough feed for the reconfiguration equipment, Andy had to order the demolition of a large area of ​​abandoned buildings on the outskirts of the industrial zone.

Although those buildings have collapsed, they are the legacy of the golden age!

Every brick and every beam is an irreplaceable cultural relic.

As a farmer, Andy felt his heart bleed as he watched those exquisite building components being thrown into the shredder.

It feels like having to chop up your mahogany furniture just to make a fire for warmth.

What a waste of money!

But there was no other way; in order to survive and to manufacture guns and cannons, they had to dismantle them!

Let's tear it down!

They dismantle them one by one without making a sound!

This has resulted in the outer areas of Horisonburg now looking even more desolate than before, as if they had been gnawed by locusts.

But now, things have changed.

With these three mines delivered to his doorstep, Andy could finally stop his short-sighted, exploitative behavior.

With that in mind, Andy tapped one of the three coordinates with his finger.

On the holographic map, the three gray icons representing enemy ships disappeared and were replaced by three prominent golden pickaxe symbols.

[Recycling Point - A]

[Recycling Point - B]

[Recycling Point - C]

"Let's take these three places as our first batch of refined gold deposits."

Andy turned around: "Let's get the entire Engineering Department mobilized."

"Take all the heavy-duty cutting machines, transport trucks, and send over those hundreds of engineering drones."

"We don't need to tow the ship back; we can dismantle it on the spot."

"Everything that looks like an old armor plate—the cannon barrel, the engine drive shaft, the reactor casing."

.

"Cut it off, load it onto the truck, and bring it back!"

"As for the rest of that junk—let's just leave it there for now."

Andy waved his hand dismissively.

"Serve as a signpost, to tell those who come after: Don't mess with Deep Space Industries."

Gamma-9 immediately stood at attention: "Yes, Your Excellency!"

"I'll arrange it right away! I'll make sure they don't leave a single bolt behind!"

Watching Gamma-9's retreating figure, Andy sat back down in the command chair.

Looking at the three golden mining icons on the screen, he finally felt a little better.

That's right, this is the correct way to farm.

No need to mine in the deep mountains and forests, no need to fight those damn aliens for territory.

On this planet filled with the ruins of war, the largest mineral deposits could very well be the corpses of the enemy.

They forged the resources they had painstakingly collected into weapons and armor, and delivered them to Andy's doorstep.

All Andy had to do was leave these things behind, then throw them into the refactoring machine and turn them into more powerful tools.

"We have the refined gold."

Andy was making plans in his mind.

With adamantite, the reactor walls of the warp engine can be built.

Next, all that's missing is the super diamond —

This stuff is even harder to get than adamantite.

Because it is not typically used as a structural material, but rather as a core component of precision arrays.

This is not something you'd find on a typical land-based warship, unless it's a high-end one equipped with a light spear main cannon.

Andy recalled the Newborn's forced landing and the subsequent blockade of his land-based fleet.

One or two of the ships looked quite advanced, and it appeared that they had light spear launchers on their sides.

pity----

If we could also take down that ship, maybe the current materials list would be complete.

But it doesn't matter.

Now that they've established a foothold in Zais, they'll definitely have no shortage of good opportunities like this coming their way in the future.

>