Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

All that could be seen was Komi's holographic projection with his hands behind his back saying, "I think this battle might not be successful. The shrimps have somehow managed to get a lot of canned food as support. These canned foods are extremely powerful. It is said that they fought against something called Rehmannia thousands of years ago."

But who am I? I'm a nine-headed Waaagh agent trained by the mastermind, the Piggy Master! If one plan fails, I immediately devise the next! According to my intelligence, those shrewd shrimps have far more than just the 'Planet Killer'! They have something even bigger and more powerful!"

Koken took out a sketch from behind him, and at first glance, the red-headed man couldn't recognize what it was.

"That dark, murky thing is Blackrock Fortress! It's bigger and more powerful than the Planet Killer, born to serve the cause of us fart-mongers..."

Upon hearing this, Hongnaomen felt no fervor rising within him; he only wanted to ask Gu Jian one question.

We suffered such heavy casualties attacking the Planet Killer; wouldn't attacking the even bigger Blackrock Fortress be pure suicide?

Koken had anticipated this and immediately explained, "This Black Stone Fortress is a very old thing, and nobody really knows how to use it! You don't have to worry about the enemy destroying your entire fleet with a single bombardment... Besides, it's big enough that you can take all the Pixies inside and settle down. Those guys probably won't find you for hundreds of years. Anyway, I've already told you this news, and I hope you won't disappoint the Pixie Grand Master. I have to continue working here at Shrimp."

Chapter 429: Being a coward once was for Waaagh's sake twice.

The holographic projection abruptly stopped. Redhead remained silent for a long time, then addressed all the orcs, saying, "Now is not the time for orcs and swarms to fight each other. If we want to control this Black Stone Fortress, we must unite!"

"Join together? How is that possible?"

The farts gasped at Redhead's decision, unable to accept that they would have to work with the orcs who had bullied them again.

One of the idiots raised his hand and asked, "What about the Deathly Traitors?"

"If they obey, they can stay alive and continue Waaagh with us; if they don't, they can prepare to become fodder for the Skull! By 'alliance,' I mean other orcs, those we haven't yet encountered. If they strongly object to our 'fart spirit' identity, they can send orcs to speak on our behalf. If necessary, we can choose to abandon teaching the fart spirits among other orcs, preventing them from fighting alongside us..."

"But... but doesn't this betray our original intention? Everyone knows that if the orcs and the elves unite, the elves will definitely be bullied by them. What happened to the equal Waaagh? We must not make peace with those orcs before they agree to our demands! Nor can we abandon our help to our suffering elf brothers!"

“That’s right! I think he’s right! This is a betrayal of the Great Master’s ideology! It’s a cowardly act of siding with those orcs! How could I have been so blind as to let a bastard like you become our leader!”

"I demand a re-election! A re-election! If you, leader, can do it, why can't I?"

Hearing the protests of the farts, Redhead had no choice but to raise his voice, holding up the portrait of the fart master and shouting, "Farts! We are fighting for equal Waaagh, but if we can't even properly Waaagh, what's the use of equality?"

This isn't a betrayal of our grandmaster, but rather a clever application of his ideas! We're playing dumb so we can get two Waaaghs!

"Was it to back down a bit just to get Waaagh twice?"

The sycophants looked at each other, seemingly finding the redhead's words quite reasonable.

Seeing the bastards quiet down, Redhead pressed his advantage, saying, "You guys should think about this carefully. Did Brother Mao teach us how to 'Waaagh'? Did he come down and point at your flat head and say, 'Hey! You little rascal, you have to sneak up behind that thing and give it a good whack on the back of the head!' Did Brother Mao ever say that?"

"It seems not..."

"That's right! The Second Brother Mao never taught us how to Waaagh. They just told us to Waaagh and gave us a goal to strive for in life. How we get to that goal depends on what we do."

Seeing that the idiots didn't understand, the man with the red forehead had to explain in more detail.

"Just like those orcs who gather together! The boys carrying the moon are all incredibly rich! The blue-headed boys are masters of looting, never leaving empty-handed! The boys covered in black and white checks are single-mindedly focused on fighting! They do this to better implement Waaagh in their own way! Similarly, if we replace them with farts, some farts are good at ambushing and causing destruction! Some farts are good at tinkering and making some really powerful little things! Since we have this and that, why can't we have a fart who is good at communicating with others?"

"But why do we need to communicate?"

Redhead clasped his hands together and said, "When we're weak and bullied, what's the first thing we do? Of course, we band together into a big group and use our collective strength to protect the rights of every little brat. Now is when we're the weakest and smallest, so the scope of our group will expand, won't it?"

The Great Instructor of the Farts told us we shouldn't suffer under the orcs' thumbs; we also have the right to fight alongside them. He resolved our ideological issues, letting the Farts know they weren't born slaves of the orcs! Toys! Emergency rations! Now it's time for us to find solutions. For the sake of the struggle, we can't just resort to sneak attacks and harassment; we need to think things through specifically, understand?

After listening for so long, the sycophants' dazed eyes finally cleared up a bit. They yelled and shouted that Redhead's idea was brilliant. The sycophant who had been shouting that choosing Redhead as leader was blind changed his tune and gave a thumbs up, saying that Redhead had been cunning since he was a child.

"Now let's move forward and expand our Waaagh in a more flexible and intelligent way!"

Lusny raised his hand and shouted at the redhead, "I think we should give your idea a name so we can figure it out."

Redhead thought Lusni's suggestion made a lot of sense. He touched his long nose, took a few seconds to think, and said, "From now on, we'll call this 'Emergency Waaaghism'!"

......

"Captain Spyder, how are the orcs?"

“Sage, we have done everything we can to control the enemy’s losses and keep them in a half-dead state. But I still don’t understand why the orcs can make a comeback in just a little while. Keeping them alive is not a good thing for the sector.”

"Captain Spyr, you don't need to worry about that. The focus now is on repelling Abaddon's invasion. The Empire's iron fist is tough and strong, but you can't punch two people in the face at once. You have to take it one step at a time."

"You're right."

"So what's our next course of action?" This time, it was Azrael who asked the question.

Komi looked at the flashing avatar on the screen and recalled his memories, hoping to deduce Abaddon's next move from the brief history of the Gothic War.

In the early stages of the Gothic War, the Chaos Fleet launched an attack on the important Mechanicus bases and Forgeworlds in the Gothic Sector, and used an ancient artifact in its possession to cripple the energy core of Blackrock Fortress.

Abaddon now controls at least one Blackrock Fortress, and his next step is to merge with the Planet Killer and completely destroy the Church World of Savavon.

Now that Planet Killer has been destroyed, Abaddon is no longer able to destroy Savavon in a short time to deter other Imperial worlds.

Considering this... what would Abaddon do?

Abandon plundering and concentrate the fleet to prioritize capturing the Blackrock Fortresses scattered across other star systems?

Komi felt it was unlikely. It wasn't just the relatively disciplined Black Legion that came to the Gothic Sector with Abaddon; a large number of raiding gangs had also come here in hopes of getting a bigger slice of the human Empire's flesh.

Getting these guys to give up looting is practically impossible, especially since Abaddon himself isn't exactly a saint; he'll definitely take advantage of the other warbands' weakened state to forcibly consolidate his power under his control.

Chapter 430: The Military Progress of the Farting King

After much deliberation, Gu Jian still couldn't be sure what Abaddon's next move would be. This warlord seemed to have a good plan, but in fact, his attack on the Gothic Sector was entirely based on the prophecies of a few wizards.

Finally, Komi replied, “First, transport all the spoils of this battle back to Wuding Port, then send a reconnaissance fleet to Savavinn, the state religion, to check on Abaddon’s movements. We cannot place all our hopes on the revelation of the Savior. You will do this job, Captain Spyr.”

“As you command, Your Majesty, I will now depart for Savaven.”

Looking at the other avatars on the screen, Komi asked, "Does anyone else have anything to report? If so, just say it all at once; it'll be more efficient."

A small megaphone appeared below the image of Sage Sam, clearly indicating that he was about to say something. Komi thought he would talk about the ancient weapons on the Planet Killer, but instead he talked about the farts.

“Sage, we have captured quite a few bastards around the Planet Killer. Their equipment is very strange and we have never seen it before.”

"Oh?" Koji raised an eyebrow. Ever since he used his identity as the Grand Master of Farting to thoroughly expose the conflict between Fartings and Orcs, the creativity of these sneaky guys has been unleashed.

Sage Semi sent the documents he had prepared to Komi. Komi raised his hand and pressed a button on the armrest, and the documents unfolded at the edge of the screen.

Disassembly and Analysis of the Farting King's New Weapon

First author: Sage Semih.

Table of Contents...Abstract...Keywords...

Upon seeing the familiar thesis format, Koken immediately recalled the painful experience of writing his academic paper at the end of his university years. He quickly scrolled through the dense text with a serious face, only stopping to take a serious look when he saw the pictures and tables.

"Skinny type" and "overweight type"

Koken was stunned for a moment when he saw the two metal shells with different shapes and combat roles. He felt that the things were familiar, but he couldn't remember what to call them for a while.

He turned to another page and carefully read the battle records summarized by Sage Semi.

For example, this one—

A soldier from the 15th Regiment of Wuding Port recalled: "We boarded the Orc warship with a torpedo! By God, this place is incredibly filthy! There are sharp metal fragments everywhere and disgusting Orc spore remnants. We must kill all these vile and filthy creatures for our savior!"

I followed my officer into a fairly spacious tunnel, one of the few places where I didn't have to bend over or duck while walking. There were also some tunnels so narrow they were comparable to water pipes; if I hadn't seen my officer unpack a grenade and thrown it in, and hadn't heard the screams of the bastards, I certainly wouldn't have considered this place a threat!

We fought here for about 20 minutes, encountering nothing but bastards. These small, wretched creatures had no chance against the Saviors' Army; the combined firepower of just my companion and me was enough to keep more than twenty bastards from even raising their heads.

I thought this would be an easy and enjoyable battle, but then we ran into some truly elite enemies!

The ear-piercing sound of metal scraping and grinding came from afar, a grinding noise that only the old car repair shop next door could make. Those scoundrels didn't find the sound unpleasant; instead, they became excited, waving their pistols and knives and screaming loudly.

The officer fired a new flare into the distance, and now we could see what those bastards were cheering about.

Several sinister machines, constructed from piles of scrap metal, rushed toward us, their movements clumsy and comical. The tall, thin machines appeared to be about two meters tall at first glance.

This machine is extremely ugly. It's as simple as putting two legs and two arms on a metal can. Even a kid from Wudinggang could make something similar.

Ugly as they may be, their combat effectiveness is by no means lacking! My squad and I opened fire on these charging machines, and the lasers that could easily burn through the assholes only left a small, bright red crater.

Our officer was a very good shot; he could aim at the various cables and pipes exposed on the limbs of these machines. I wasn't sure how effective the attack would be, because the way those machines ran gave me the feeling that they were about to break down.

Those machines raised their weapons at us; their thick, long barrels could be used as small-caliber automatic cannons to pound lightly armored targets in our ranks! Amidst the banging sounds, beams of light flew rapidly toward us, and my comrade was pierced through, leaving a hole the size of a cup in his body!

We were suppressing the fart demons one moment, and now we're being suppressed by these fart demon machines. Our casualties are mounting, and the iron plates we used as cover have proven to be of inferior quality, easily penetrated by the weapons wielded by these machines!

The ranks began to waver, and some tried to desert. But their cowardly behavior was immediately stopped! Our brave and resolute commander immediately executed these cowards and ordered the soldiers with anti-tank weapons to launch an attack.

Two rockets flew past quickly; one destroyed a machine, while the other exploded in mid-air. I initially thought enemy bullets had detonated the rockets prematurely, but while cleaning up the battlefield, I discovered that a round, fan-equipped Skull had flown in and blocked the attack…”

Upon seeing this, Komi suddenly realized where his sense of familiarity came from. Wasn't this the fighting style of the Tau Empire's army?

Fart Machine = Combat Suit

The modified Sguger = drone bee.

"Farts" = Fire Clan warriors who are not equipped with plasma rifles.

In just a few years, the Fart Spirits of the Fart Spirits Society have developed to this extent? These Fart Spirits are not even direct descendants of Fart Spirits; they only learned about the Fart Spirits Society through the Orc LAN.

Koken blinked, suddenly realizing that letting those fart-spirits go was a bad idea. The Tau Empire had only taken a few thousand years to grow into a major threat to the human empire's borders. The fart-spirits, who were disciples of the Ancient Saints, would surely grow even faster than those noseless ones. Who knew what kind of trouble they would cause in the Gothic Sector?

Suppressing her worries, Komi continued reading.

"Although those machines had Skulls to deflect rockets, their numbers were limited, and their defenses were only sufficient to stop small arms fire. We quickly received support from other boarding forces and then crushed the bastards' counterattack."

Along the way, we also encountered an even larger type of fart-like machine, with significantly thicker frontal defenses. Two of them standing side by side could block the entire passage. Our rockets couldn't penetrate them; we could only use smoke grenades to obstruct vision and slowly approach, finally managing to wipe out these behemoths with flamethrowers and meltdown guns…

Seeing this, Koji suddenly had an interesting idea. He closed the file and summoned Sage Semi.

Upon hearing Komi call him, Sage Sem responded, "What are your orders?"

Komi tapped his fingers on the armrest, then ran his hand through the soul passage, stroking the surface of the blood sugar. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "After the meeting, come to my room with Fetia."

"Can I go?" Octa interrupted abruptly, and Komi gave him a puzzled look before saying irritably.

"My chest hurts whenever I see you, so you'd better not come."

Oct lowered his head, a sense of regret still visible even through his helmet.

Chapter 431: Hey! I'll give you a fart-related blood sugar to eat!

Fithia and Sage Semi stood on either side of the ancient table. Fithia still had a sweet, cloying smell similar to WD40 lubricant, while Sage Semi's scent was more ancient.

If Komi were to put together a description, he would say that the smell of Sage Sem was like the ball bearings of a motorcycle that had been over-oiled twenty years ago. Over the years, the oil aged, became contaminated, dried, and then moistened again, fermenting and eventually forming a black, sticky substance that couldn't be washed off once it got on it, giving off a musty stench.

Komi felt his nostrils being tormented by the two oily smells, and he began to miss the scent of Sharon's perfume and the new perfumes Antoine had recently created.

"Ahem..." Komi cleared his throat and took out the fart blood sugar and placed it on the table. Fitia, who had eaten this, widened his eyes and looked very surprised. The Sage Sem next to him lowered his head and carefully scanned and analyzed the structure and composition of the fart blood sugar.