Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 96 Sharp Blade 939.M41

The surgical center at Dome 30 began performing neurointerface surgeries several months ago.

More than 40,000 people. Dr. Liz's team established a dedicated surgical center in Dome 30, and the procedures were already well-established. From sterilization, anesthesia, implantation, and suturing, the entire process, from being wheeled into the operating room to being wheeled out, takes less than an hour. Patients can get out of bed two days after surgery, basic nerve signal calibration is completed within a week, and nail adaptation training begins two weeks later.

Maggie's logistics team established a complete supply chain between the surgical center and the training grounds. Power armor was transported directly from the production line to the warehouse at the training grounds. With the production of CMC-300A no longer a bottleneck after the full ramp-up in the Garros underground industrial zone, thousands of gray-white terracotta armor sets were neatly stacked on the shelves.

The first batch of combatants who underwent surgery began armor adaptation in the third week post-surgery. On the training field, the 2.5-meter-tall power armor gleamed a grayish-white under the cold white lights. Some couldn't stand steadily, some couldn't walk, and some tumbled and fell hard during their first tactical roll. The instructors stood by, watching expressionlessly, occasionally shouting "Get up!" No one helped them up. The power armor's servo system would assist you in standing, but you yourself had to have the will to stand first.

Basic armor adaptation lasted for a month. It progressed from standing, walking, and running, to jumping, rolling, and crawling, and finally to performing daily tactical maneuvers while wearing power armor. After a month, the first batch of combatants achieved an armor adaptation pass rate of over 90%.

Shooting training commenced in full swing during the second month. The firing range was situated at the edge of the dome, with a non-slip steel surface. The targets were mobile, unmanned buoys simulating enemy targets at varying distances. Combatants wearing CMC-300A suits, armed with training laser rifles (power limited, safe mode), aimed and fired with the assistance of a neural interface. Their reaction time was significantly faster than when wearing CMC-100; upon seeing the target, their thoughts issued the command, and the gun fired. The neural interface directly connected the user's consciousness to the trigger.

"It's your finger that pulls the trigger, but it's your brain that decides when to pull it." Rellano stood on the firing range observation platform, his gray combat uniform draped over his arms, his light gray eyes fixed on each firing position. "The neural interface eliminates the transmission time from brain to finger. But if your judgment is wrong, even the fastest reaction is useless."

He would occasionally step down from the observation platform and stand beside the firing position, verbally correcting the aiming posture. "Raise the muzzle." "Shift your weight to the left." "Steady your breathing." Each instruction resulted in a visible improvement in the trainee's shooting performance.

The training of elite personnel is another separate process. Twelve hundred individuals were selected from over forty thousand combatants. In addition to basic training, they receive advanced combat skills courses—the use of chainsaw swords and power gauntlets (blunt versions for training), close-quarters combat enhanced by power armor, tactical judgment at maximum speed, and counter-attacking when suppressed. Rellano personally leads this class. He doesn't wear power armor, but rather a grey combat suit, standing on an observation platform at the edge of the training field, instructing the elite combatants in their 300E suits via communication channels.

"You will make mistakes. I'm waiting for your mistakes."

His voice came through the loudspeaker, calm and clear. No one asked him to demonstrate—his speed and power in combat gear surpassed even the slowest armored combatant. He stood on high, using his experience to help them refine every movement.

A burly man in a 300E helmet stopped, removed his helmet, and looked up at the observation platform. "Instructor, how should we optimize the second group's attack route?"

Rellano picked up a laser pointer and drew several lines on the tactics board. "Flank from the right flank, use cover to break up the formation. Don't charge head-on; your advantage is speed and firepower."

The burly man nodded, put on his helmet, and ran back to the training field.

Three months later, the elite core personnel achieved a 100% armor combat qualification rate. It wasn't perfect, but at least they could withstand the first few rounds of testing under Relano's tactical guidance in simulated combat.

In the fourth month, combatants began boarding the ships in batches. The training areas of the Black Pearl and Truth were transformed into boarding simulation cabins—corridors, hatches, airlocks, bridges, and engine rooms were all arranged according to combat standards. Combatants repeatedly practiced boarding and counter-boarding operations in these simulated environments.

There is no textbook standard procedure for boarding operations. In the Imperial Navy's tactical manual, boarding operations are the bloodiest, most brutal, and most hopeless battles. The standard tactical sequence is as follows: First, use artillery fire to tear apart the enemy ship's air shields, paralyze its engines and weapon systems, and render it unable to maneuver; then, the boarding vehicle—the shark boarding boat or the gauntlet assault boat—forces its way in under the enemy ship's defensive artillery fire, using boarding drills or thermal cutters to pierce the armor: the first combatant to rush in the instant the hatch opens usually fires before his vision is restored—not because he sees the enemy, but because he knows that the enemy's firing positions must be positioned on both sides of the breach.

Relano turned the Black Pearl's corridors into a training ground for simulated combat. The combatants practiced repeatedly: storming through assault pods, rapidly advancing through narrow passages, clearing out compartments, and capturing key positions. Every step was fraught with casualties. Each engagement had clear winning and losing conditions; the losing side received punitive physical training, and the winning side wasn't necessarily praised—"You were too slow," "Too many people died," "Your reaction was too slow."

Anti-boarding operations follow a different logic. The defending forces' mission is to block breaches, halt enemy advances, and eliminate intruders compartment by compartment. Locking airtight doors is the most basic and effective defensive measure, forcing the attackers to expend valuable time and thermal explosives (training inert bombs) to breach each door. In anti-boarding operations, the ship's communication network is the most critical tactical resource—the commander needs to monitor the situation in each compartment in real time, determine the enemy's main attack direction, and mobilize reserves to block breaches as quickly as possible. Each locked airtight door is a line of defense, and every delay buys time for the rear.

Relano's simulated combat was extremely rigorous. He set up pre-positioned firing points along the combatants' advance path, arranged ambushes at corners, and established crossfire lines at the ends of corridors. The combatants were repelled time and again, but they regrouped and launched attacks time and again. They learned to use flashbangs (low-power training grenades) and fragmentation grenades (inert rounds) to clear corners, use smoke grenades to cover squad movement, and utilize the enhanced power of their power armor to quickly traverse areas under fire.

The elite core members' CMC-300E precision-engineered armor was fully distributed by mid-April. Rellano's set was personally crafted by Cohen, incorporating an atomic deflection shield. The elite core members' 300E is a mass-produced model, without a shield, but its power assist and joint response tuning are significantly superior to the 300A, and its armor is made of adamantite. The difference was noticeable on the first day of wearing it; a gag order has been issued, and it's only stated publicly that it's the same as the 300A.

In the fifth month, combatant boarding training entered its second phase. Boarding and anti-boarding drills moved from the simulator to the actual ship—

The passageways inside the Black Pearl and Truth became the most realistic training grounds. Combatants, clad in power armor, practiced assault routes in the realistic corridors and breaching techniques in front of realistic hatches—training to use a thermoelectric cutter to hold the door hinge, simulating molten metal droplets (low-power laser indication). After the door opened, they trained to use flashbangs to penetrate first, followed by short bursts of fire from a bomb gun (inert rounds).

Relano conducted an ambush drill in the outer passageway of the bridge. He stood at the corner, wearing the CMC-300 prototype suit. The atomic deflection shields were off—shields were not used during training, that was the rule.

Twenty elite combatants dressed in CMC-300E armor launched an assault from the other end of the passage.

He didn't retreat. Sparks flew from his adamantite armor amidst the barrage of training rounds, the shockwaves from the impacts penetrating the armor through the lining to his skeleton, yet he remained motionless. He used corners to divide the battlefield, the terrain to limit numerical superiority, and anticipation to move before his opponents could pull the trigger. A combatant charged out from the flank, a training-grade powered gauntlet slamming into his shoulder armor—he sidestepped, grabbed the opponent's wrist, and used the momentum to slam him against the wall behind him. Another rushed in from the front, a training-grade explosive gun firing at close range; the inert bullets exploded in two bursts on his chest armor, leaving two shallow dents (sensor feedback), but he didn't retreat. He swung his powered gauntlet, deflecting the opponent's gun muzzle.

The combatants coordinated perfectly, but Rellano was always a fraction of a second faster—not in terms of speed, but in terms of judgment. He knew the firing arc at every corner, the intervals between reloads, and when and where the enemy would peek out. The attack of twenty men crashed down before him, retreated, and came again.

Twenty-seven minutes later, the last combatant was pinned to the mask by his training power gauntlets. Rellano's armor had more than a dozen inert bullet marks, his breastplate was charred black, and a small piece of the coating chipped off the edge of his left shoulder armor.

He was still standing.

"Well played," he said. "Next time, I won't let you drag this out."

No one found it funny. Twenty elite soldiers in 300E armor had been held up in the passage for almost half an hour by one person. That person, wearing the same level of power armor, stood there like a wall.

Rellano removed his helmet, his light gray eyes scanning everyone. A short, sharp hissing sound came from the collar of his neck armor.

"You will make mistakes. I waited until the twenty-seventh."

He paused for a moment.

"Your ship could be hit at any moment. Your comrades could fall at any moment. What you need is not just courage, but also instinct."

Silence. No applause, no slogans, only the sound of breathing and the low hum of the power armor in standby mode.

Rellano nodded. "Dismissed."