Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

It is believed that after receiving instruction and guidance, the soldiers will understand how to distinguish between treating people and treating machine spirits, rather than conflating them, and may even be taught to communicate with machine spirits only on a spiritual level.

Like BT-7274 and Cooper, not all good relationships have to be mixed with something strange.

Komi shook his head and turned off the Machine Soul Mirroring Screen. He had obviously remembered Bennett and Hela. Even now, Bennett had not explained to Marcus what the pipe on Hela's body was for.

Let's take it one step at a time... If things get out of hand, we should intervene and restrict them. Anyway, you know a lot about cults.

Komi took a blank sheet of paper and decided to write a draft first. After Fithia and Sage Sem read it, he would add some unspeakable details and write it in the "Stories of Rebellion" to hand over to the Masked Dancer.

With a few quick strokes of the pen, a book title appeared.

Leman Rustank, who fell into the hands of orcs and gradually became a dirty car.

"Gulp! Kill me!"

A battered Leman Rustank expressed its discontent to the orcs with the hum of its engine. Ever since she and her friends were defeated by the orcs in Tark Basin, she had been repeating this phrase, and she could never forget the humiliation of being defeated.

The orcs ignored her; they simply cheered for their victory, jumping and bouncing on the huge trailer used to tow the vehicle.

Leman Rustan saw the spikes on the trailer impaling the heads of her crew members. The tank commander, who always personally cleaned every part of her body with a clean cloth and water after the battle, had become a toy kicked around by the orcs. They said the commander's head was exceptionally round and would be good material for making a football.

Hearing the rolling sound of her head going around, Leman Rustank, filled with grief and indignation, revved her engine, wanting to crash into the orcs and show them that she wasn't someone to be trifled with.

But the engine, riddled with shrapnel and bits of flesh, couldn't do that; it could only spew out puffs of black smoke, mocking Leman Rustank's efforts.

"How...how could this happen..."

Leman Rustank thought sadly, feeling her tracks aching terribly as she was being roughly dragged for thousands of meters.

Upon arriving at the orcs' stinking, noisy workshop, Leman Rustank realized that his suffering had only just begun.

"Don't touch me! You filthy creatures!" Leman Rustank screamed as she was suspended in the air by hooks and jacks, feeling the orcs thoroughly examining the area beneath her vehicle.

Before she could even feel ashamed, a sharp pain shot through her as the orcs roughly rubbed off the double-headed eagle and Imperial Legion insignia on her armor with iron brushes.

Some devices that were not aesthetically acceptable to the orcs were also removed by hammers and welding torches. Those rough and hard tools tore the last dignity of the Hammer of Destruction to shreds!

Now she was left with only a few pieces of armor to cover her last shred of self-respect. Her tracks spun restlessly before being firmly jammed by an iron bar, rendering her immobile.

"Hey, this shrimp tank is pretty interesting! Even without human control, the tracks can still turn! What do you shrimps call that weird thing? It's like a machine spirit has appeared, right? Ahahaha!" A young mechanic waved his arms and shouted, attracting more orcs to watch the Leman Rustank's unarmored hull.

Next, they welded a huge, hairy mouth onto the Leman Rustank, mocking the shrimp's design as utterly boring, saying that tanks only look really cool when decorated like this!

Riemann Rustank, who came from the foundry of the Mechanicus, had never received such treatment. She and her comrades were respected and admired by the mechanics and soldiers wherever they went.

Now, enduring an incredibly humiliating experience, Leman Rustank felt like she was about to faint. At this moment, she began to envy her comrades who had their vehicles blown to pieces during the orc ambush.

She gritted her teeth and silently endured the humiliation, fantasizing about burning the orcs to ashes with cannonballs and flamethrowers, when a surprised cry from an orc high-level expert caught her attention.

"Damn it! We've got something big this time!"

Upon hearing this, Leman Rustank raised her bent head and looked over, only to see an Emperor Poison Blade super-heavy tank, larger and more damaged than herself, being dragged and pulled onto the modification platform by the orcs.

She remembered the Emperor Venom Blade, a steady warrior with countless honors; Leman Rustank had once been protected by the Emperor Venom Blade. She also learned that the Emperor Venom Blade preferred to park in a sea of ​​flowers and enjoy the feeling of the sun shining on her skin rather than turning cities and fortresses into ruins with cannonballs.

"S-senpai..."

Leman Rustank called out with a sob in her voice, but her weak voice could not carry far in the noisy workshop of the orcs.

She watched with immense sorrow and despair as the orcs groped the Emperor's Poison Blade, opening the hatch and going in and out.

The drooping cannon barrel, the loose tracks, and the open doors dripping with specks of engine oil and the orc's sweat—all these things clumped together beneath her, silently telling the story of her tragic fate.

Seeing the orc Grand Master pull out a long, scorching hot iron rod, Leman Rustank shouted again, "No, no! Don't do this to your senior!"

The master strategist didn't care about any of that. He was already dreaming of modifying the Emperor Poison Blade into whatever shape he wanted. Without any mercy, he inserted the iron rod into the exposed engine port, causing the silent Leman Rustank to let out a miserable creak.

Hammer of Destruction watched all of this unfold in a daze, muttering to herself over and over again.

How could this happen... How could this happen... That's Poison Blade-senpai! She's my senior, and my idol! She bravely plunged into the basin precisely because she longed to fight alongside Poison Blade-senpai on the battlefield!

"Senior, cheer up! I am Leman Rustank, do you remember me? The armored regiment will soon attack the orc camp, we're about to win..."

Leman Rustank wanted to say something, but she couldn't speak for the time being because the mechanics opened her car door and started banging and pounding inside her body, silencing her. Leman Rustank could only make pitiful whimpering sounds.

The night was long, but the mechanics worked tirelessly, the oppressive sounds of captured Imperial war chariots echoing throughout the workshop...

A week later, Leman Rustank walked out of the orcs' workshop. She looked so different that even the original crew members couldn't recognize her. Her whole body was covered with marks left by the orcs.

The big mouth that's causing all the trouble, the metal spikes that hold the heads, the metal railings for the kids to hitch a ride on, and the gaps for the orcs to stick their butts out and poop.

The headlights emitted a murky light, and several exhaust pipes were blocked by something, because the orc boys driving her liked the smell of black smoke.

The cannon barrel, which was trying to be lowered, was forcibly hoisted up by chains. A cannonball, noticeably thicker, was pushed into the breech by the orc, and the next moment, a cannonball crashed into the human position.

Beside the filthy Leman Rustank, the Emperor Venom Blade had become the orc mastermind's vehicle. The once glorious Emperor Venom Blade, teeming with orcs yearning for battle, had gradually become accustomed to the orcs' rough and ruthless repair methods... She was even somewhat... addicted to it...

......

"So? What do you guys think?" Komi rested his chin on his hands, hoping to get some feedback.

Before him, Phitia and the Sage of Sem stood in a frozen silence for a full half hour after reading the entire story.

Working overtime again, quack! Peturabo! Why are you doing this to me!

They even said they'd make up for what they owed a while ago. LOL, they didn't even give them a chance to make up for it.

I think I need to have a frank talk with Peturabo; we can't keep taking advantage of the new employees like this.

Silently noting down that I owe four chapters...

sad...

At least I have a day off tomorrow, so I can catch up on some of it.

Chapter 467: My Machine Soul Couldn't Be Like That...

"Give me some reaction, will you? You look like the most rudimentary machine servants right now!" Koji tapped the table with his finger in dissatisfaction, urging them on. He hadn't called the two to his room to play a game of "statues" with them.

After a long silence, Fetia spoke, cautiously raising her eyes to look at Komi's face and softly asking, "Saint... is this story... a record of your own experiences or a revelation from the Savior?"

Komi answered without batting an eye, "It was a revelation from the Savior. In a dream, the Savior showed me scenes of other worlds. He is the master of mankind and also the guardian of the machine spirits. He grieves for the suffering of mankind and sighs for the suffering that the machine spirits will endure."

"So...does this mean...the Savior wants us to rescue the other machines?"

“That’s one layer of meaning.” Komi held up two fingers, then bent one and said, “He hopes that through this story we can cherish the existence of Machine Spirits…”

“Cherish the existence of Machine Souls? Saint... I don’t understand. Aren’t we already cherishing Machine Souls now? Anyone who makes a Machine Soul unhappy will be immediately punished with whipping.”

Seeing the confusion on Fitia's face, Komi took a deep breath.

Hopefully, the true master of all machines won't go mad upon hearing the following remarks...

"Do you know why machine spirits are born?" Komi asked, setting the stage for his next statement. "Machines don't have machine spirits the moment they are created. Rather, their souls are born in the steel furnace and the forging of thousands of hammers. At this point, their spirituality is similar to what you described; they are merely wild beasts, exploring the world around them based on instinct."

"Then... what makes a machine spirit transform from a beast into an elf?" Sage Sem asked urgently, his electronic eyes flashing, and even Fetia beside him looked eager to learn.

Koken pointed to himself and then to the fresh flesh and blood, saying, "Naturally, it's because of the influence of our spirituality. The character of the servant of the machine spirit will greatly influence the machine spirit. A cruel person will inevitably be surrounded by bloodthirsty and violent machine spirits."

"So that's how it is... So that's how it is!" Sage Sem exclaimed twice, clearly connecting the dots to what happened on the Punisher.

Komi raised his hand to signal Sage Semi to be quiet, then pointed to the drafts in their hands and said, "This story is to guide our warriors to better understand the existence of the Machine Spirits, to transform them from servants into friends and comrades of the Machine Spirits, to provide the Machine Spirits with more positive spirituality, and to transform the Machine Spirits from beasts that act on instinct into spirits that can communicate and interact."

"Is that why you never stop the workers and soldiers on the Exterminator from naming their weapons and tools?"

"That's right, it's time to take it a step further. We need to actively guide them in building a connection with their machine spirit, rather than standing by as bystanders. If you have no further questions, then let's proceed with the publication of this story immediately..."

No sooner had Gu Jian finished speaking than Sage Sem ran out the door, his speed putting even the cat-human-turned-beastmen to shame.

"What's wrong with him?" Komi asked, puzzled. The way Sage Sam ran out the door wasn't because he was in a hurry to get to work, but more like an old father who heard that his daughter was going to be taken away by the blond-haired ghost for a whole day and night and not come home.

Fetia replied somewhat helplessly, "Sage Semin regards the combat suits he made by hand as his own children. When he heard that you were going to guide people from servants to friends, I think he must have gone to examine the composition of those combat suit pilots to see if they were qualified to be his children's... friends?"

Wow... how come I never noticed that Sage Sem was such a secretly passionate guy?

Koji remained silent for a long time. He shook his head and sighed, then heard Fitaia tiptoeing over.

What are you going to do?

Undeterred by Komi's gaze, Fita boldly took Komi's hand and placed it on her chest, saying, "Saint Otto, do you think I have a soul? Whenever I throw myself into killing, I always feel an excited voice mixed with the buzzing of the chainsaw."

That wasn't a machine spirit... that was a demon I threw in for you...

Koji didn't pull his hand back; instead, he pushed Fita away from him with force.

"Oh..." Fithia let out a soft sigh of disappointment.

Komi pointed to the door and said, "Go and get back to your work, Fitia. You're not a great sage yet. Daydreaming will only take you further away from that goal."

“Oh... okay, please take a look at these first.” Fitiya hadn’t left yet. She slammed a new document onto the Komi table. It contained optimization measures for the H1 Redemption combat suit. “We’ve received a lot of feedback in the last few battles, especially regarding the Xuan-style defensive armor. These amazing defensive measures were destroyed by lighter firepower before they could stop the fatal damage to the combat suit. Therefore, I’m trying to adjust the structure of the Xuan-style defensive armor in the hope that it can stop the enemy’s heavy firepower instead of being destroyed prematurely.”

"Oh?" Koji looked at Fetia, but then he thought that the Xuan-style defensive armor was originally obtained by Fetia from Mao Ge, so it was quite reasonable for her to come up with a way to improve it.

Komi opened the document, which contained many designs that had been verified by Fitzia as unworkable. As he browsed through it, Komi felt as if he were reading the evolutionary history of ancient armor.

Chain-like, plate-like, scale-like...

In the end, only one design stood out, and Komi almost popped her eyes out when she saw it.

This...this is! A type of armored bird?

At this moment, Komi really wanted to look up and examine Fitaia's face to confirm that this guy had no blood relation to the people of Terra Asia.

"I tried many methods to cover the Xuan-style defensive armor with plastic steel, and finally determined that stacking these small triangular pieces with gaps of about 5mm minimized the impact on the Xuan-style defensive armor." Fitia assumed that Komi's strong reaction indicated dislike for the design, so she explained its rationale: "According to tests, this structural layout of plastic steel covering the Xuan-style defensive armor can effectively block attacks from light bullets and lasers. It's expected that our maintenance workload will decrease by 500% in the next battle... Of course, this is just my humble opinion; these triangular plastic steel plates are quite time-consuming and labor-intensive to manufacture..."

“A foolish opinion? Hehehe, Phitia.” Komi closed the file and chuckled as he pulled Phitia close and ruffled her hair, which smelled of lubricant, with his hands. “This design originates from the ancient times of Terra, when Terra wasn’t even called Terra, but Earth.”

Chapter 468: Jack, who has spent too much time with the Machine Soul

"Earth?"

“Yes, Phitia, Earth.” Komi’s gaze involuntarily revealed a sense of nostalgia as he encouraged Phitia’s discovery. “This structure is called Mountain Armor. I never expected that you would bring this ancient design back to life today.”

"Then I..."

"Go for it, Fetia. Becoming a sage requires guidance from seniors, but also your own exploration." Komi gave Fetia an encouraging smile, then pushed her back towards the door. "Observe and think more, keep working hard, and don't be complacent about today's achievements."

The door closed, and Fitaia stood in the doorway, feeling as joyful as a young girl who hadn't yet matured. She clenched her fists, raised them to her chest, and bounced a few times, suppressing the urge to scream as she leaned against the corridor wall.

"Lord Otto has recognized my dedication!" Fithia said with a happy expression, but this feeling did not last long. The smile on her face faded, and her expression slowly turned into dissatisfaction with her body.

Fithia is a member of the Flesh and Blood faction, and has made very few mechanical modifications to himself; his body beneath his robes is well-proportioned and healthy.