Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

“This is…” Mephitari leaned closer to take a look, and suddenly couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Kayan gave Mephitari an annoyed look, then slapped what he was holding onto Abaddon's head...

Hmm... that completes the War General's story.

Although we don't know what he went through, this will at least stop the warlords of the Chaos War Gang from overthinking.

Amazingly, when Kayan gave Abaddon the new "pigtail," he immediately woke up. He opened his eyes and saw that it was Kayan supporting him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Kayan…” Abaddon said hoarsely, vaguely feeling his scalp tightening.

"Commander, I'm here... What's your next order?"

"What's the situation at Blackrock Keep? Has Kebo driven those orcs out of Blackrock Keep?"

"He...he's trying."

"Trying hard?!" Abaddon's voice rose a little. "This isn't something you can just brush off with 'trying hard'! Are you trying to tell me his warband is having such a hard time wiping out a bunch of orcs?"

Kayan didn't know how to answer Abaddon; he had the same question in his mind.

Orcs are indeed a big problem, but as long as you master the tricks of dealing with them, these green-skinned beasts are not a difficult enemy. Once their warlords die, the entire orc army will fall into internal strife and scatter like birds and beasts.

Even if Kaibo couldn't kill all the orcs, he could at least chop the orc warlord in the lead to death, right?

Abaddon said to Kayan, "You urge him on and tell him that if he can't eliminate those orcs within five minutes, he won't be coming back to see me alive."

“Yes, War Master…” Kayan responded to Abaddon’s order. Mephitari spread her wings that covered her body and stamped her foot anxiously, reminding Kayan that he should rest now instead of continuing to use his psionic powers.

But Kayan didn't care about any of that. He closed his eyes and channeled his psionic energy into the space, turning it into a thread to search for Kabo's location.

Kayan coughed painfully twice, swallowing back a mouthful of blood, and then contacted Kabo, who was busy at Blackrock Fortress.

"Fakus Kabo, how is your battle going? The War Master wants a satisfactory answer, understand?"

Kaber immediately recognized Kayan's voice. As a Space Marine without psionic talent, he loathed the sound of a wizard's voice suddenly ringing in his head, but he had no choice but to accept it under Abaddon's orders, since a convenient and fast means of communication could greatly improve the efficiency of combat.

Kabo answered Kayan's question in a deep voice, his voice transcending the mundane, carrying a mysterious echo and tremor from the warp. "I can defeat those enemies, but it will be difficult to completely annihilate them... These orcs are somewhat special; they are excessively cunning. I feel as if I am facing a group of cowardly midnight lord dwarves, rather than a group of savage and mindless orcs."

Chapter 625: The War Commander's Growing Despair

Just as Kebo was complaining about how difficult the enemy was, several cunning snipers had already arrived at their hidden sniping positions. They were certain that the tall and strong Kebo was the enemy commander, and that if they could just punch a hole in his head, their battle to capture Blackrock Fortress would become incredibly easy.

"That thing is really ugly..."

As one of the "anything goes" items was being assembled into a longer and stronger spear by a pimp, he glanced with his small eyes at Kaibo, who was explaining his difficult battle situation to Kayan in the distance.

"Not all thorny canned goods are like this. They're usually quite cool with thorns all over their bodies, but they always end up with some weird things growing on them, like tentacles or horns."

The other fart-lover was unimpressed, and simply listened to the intermittent speech of Lusni, the commander of the fart-lover raiding squad.

"Boys! Our raid was scattered this time! But... this is precisely... the beginning of our success. We, the Butt Spirits, can't beat those spiky cans in a head-on fight, but when it comes to scattered ambushes, no one does it better than us... Don't let Redhead down... and don't let Redcloak Instructor sigh. This time, we're going to take this Black Stone Fortress back to our nest no matter what..."

The jerk staring at Kaibo then said, "You little bastard, take a look at yourself. That thing is really unique."

Then another fart-grubber also turned his gaze, and Kebo's body immediately came into his view.

The Ironclad Terminator power armor, distorted by chaotic energy, no longer possessed its former imposing presence. The massive shoulder armor had shrunk considerably, making Kaber look more like a swift raptor.

A jet-black head, devoid of skin and with very little muscle, its skull structure barely visible, was tucked into a golden metal mouth formed by the connection between the power armor's neck and the backpack on its back, with red light emanating from the back of its head.

The head had no eyes in its sockets; instead, two long demonic horns sprang out, curving upwards. Its breastplate was also irregularly structured, with large and small pieces pieced together, and a scarlet eye within a chaotic eight-pointed star flickered intermittently.

Looking down, one could see a gaping maw opening open at the waist and abdomen, with sharp teeth lined up in a dense array, and a slippery tongue protruding from inside the body, making it impossible to understand the arrangement of his organs.

Another scoundrel stared for a while before shaking his head and sighing, "You're right, this bastard is indeed excessively ugly. Although he's a good opponent, fighting against such an ugly opponent still makes me feel nauseous."

"Alright, alright, stop talking! You guys are making it impossible for me to aim in peace!" The last guy glared at the two of them, and after clearing his ears, he grabbed the three-in-one spear and aimed it at Kaibo's body.

So where exactly is the weakness?

This problem stumped the fart spirit. He felt that the horned head wasn't a weakness, since two horns were growing out of its eye sockets, and there couldn't possibly be any brain matter left inside its head.

So the farting spirit changed his target and finally set his sights on Kebo's gaping, blood-red maw.

"Great mentor, bless me! I hope one day I can grow as tall and thin as you." The fart-like man prayed for a moment, then pulled the trigger.

At this moment, Kaber was being subjected to Kayan's insults, or rather, the words that Abaddon had Kayan relay for him.

"Kebo! I don't want your explanations! I just want victory! A clean and decisive victory! Don't tell me how troublesome those orcs are; every excuse you give me only makes me more and more disappointed in you!"

Kebo silently endured the pressure relayed by Kayan. The moment the butt pulled the trigger, his supernatural senses immediately detected a trace of killing intent that enveloped his body.

It was a sneak attack!

Kaber moved quickly to find cover, not assuming his power armor was an impenetrable defense given the uncertainty of enemy firepower.

Almost instantly, he teleported behind a destroyed fat mech, whose pilot had already been torn to pieces.

However, the sniper's kill was not so simple. The bullets fired from the three-in-one rifle formed a subtle angle with the ground, and bounced in another direction after grazing the ground, eventually hitting the gaping maw of Kaibo, which was suspected to be a weak point.

The tongue, which had been hanging limply, suddenly sprang up, rolled up the bullet, and swallowed it whole. As a result, Kebo gained a lot of information from the bullet, and he was able to locate the hidden sniper snipers immediately.

"They're there! Kill them!"

At Kaibo's command, a dense hail of bullets rained down, tearing the farts and their hiding place to shreds.

“Sorry, War General.” Kaibo interrupted Kayan’s voice in a deep voice, “Those orcs are infiltrating a corner of this fortress, and I need to go and clean up these damned beasts.”

Kaibo's way of interrupting Kayan's psionic communication was simple: he raised a flesh-and-blood head hanging from his waist to his ear and emitted a sharp whistling sound.

"He... has lost communication. It seems he's in trouble, but at least we still have two Blackrock Fortresses that are still operational." Kayan reported honestly to Abaddon, the War Marshal taking a deep breath and wiping the blood clots from his face.

"Sigh... Two fortresses. If the records are correct, that's enough to destroy the Imperial Navy." Abaddon said, frowning. He couldn't ignore the tension coming from the top of his head. He thought it was because the wound on his head hadn't healed, and he was about to reach out and touch it to check the situation.

Kayan tried to stop him, but then slowly lowered his hand. Mephitari stood behind him, tugging at his cloak, using this small gesture to express her feelings.

If Abaddon ever figured out what was on his head, he'd be furious! You're dead!

Impossible... He'll understand that this decoration is necessary! He knows I'm doing this for his own good!

Abaddon touched it...

Huh? My braid? It's back again?

He was immediately pleasantly surprised, and his gaze toward Kayan held a hint of admiration. It was indeed not good for his subordinates to see him in such a pathetic state after his defeat. He not only had to find a way to appease his subordinates, but also had to find a way to send those who had seen his disgraceful state out to their deaths in the future.

Abaddon would never allow his invincible Warmaster aura to be tainted in the slightest. He couldn't travel back in time to rewrite the history of his defeats, but he could kill all those who knew the truth, making himself great and immortal in the eyes of countless Chaos Warriors, even more worthy of following than the Primarch.

The last time he did this was after a bloody battle with Grand Marshal Sigismund of the Black Templars. It was an incredibly difficult battle, and even though Sigismund was old and frail, he still suffered serious injuries. This was something Abaddon should remember more carefully than losing to Markarth because of the sudden malfunction of the magic sword.

While in the life support pod, he remarked to Kayan: "The years have indeed slowed down Sigismund, but only to the point where he is on par with us so-called best soldiers in the legions."

Many people witnessed this battle. The newly formed Black Legion warriors were unable to intervene in the bloody fight between the two and could only stand aside and wait for the outcome to become clear.

They cheered for Abaddon's survival, but this did not satisfy Abaddon, because they also heard the curse-like words that Sigismund had spoken to him before his death.

"You will die like your weak father, utterly dejected, utterly disgraced, weeping bitterly, shamefully and vilely..."

At first, these words only elicited a few dismissive snorts from Abaddon, after all, he boasted that he would surpass his failed father and become the true destroyer of the human empire.

But his own relief doesn't mean he trusts others to feel the same way. He sends other legion warriors who hear his words out on dangerous missions under various pretexts.

If they die, say it's because the weak were eliminated from the legion; if they live, keep using them to the death.

The cycle repeated itself, and after all these years, only one person still remembered Sigismund's words... only Kayan beside him.

"You will die like your weak father, utterly dejected, utterly disgraced, weeping bitterly, shamefully and vilely..."

As he was scratching his head, Abaddon suddenly remembered Sigismund's dying words. He paused, and his attitude changed from disdain to deep contemplation.

The battle with Markus just now was... utterly humiliating... Could it be because his curse took effect? ​​No... that's impossible... only a treacherous wizard could cast a curse, Sigismund is a traditional Astartes, he's a powerful swordsman!

Abaddon told himself this, and then he suddenly felt something bite his fingers as they touched the roots of his hair, and at the same time the tightness in his scalp intensified.

At that moment, Abaddon immediately realized what was on his head. He turned and glared at Kayan with fiery eyes, roaring, "Kayan! How dare you put a hairy Skug on my head!"

Chapter 626: The Loyal Kayan

Schguger.

A peculiar species that cannot be ignored when discussing orc culture. These diverse, low-intelligence, and irritable creatures do not live independently in nature. They coexist with orcs, achieving a mutually beneficial and harmonious relationship.

Orcs eat Skullg, and Skullg eat things that even orcs don't eat.

Although fart spirits and snot spirits already exist as a class of slaves and pets in orc society, when it comes to useful tools, one still has to take a look at the diverse Skulls.

Some Sgug are like bread, juicy and meaty; some Sgug are like pockets, their stomachs able to hold the orcs' odds and ends; some Sgug are like mud, often used as medicine by mad doctors.

The Skull currently atop Abaddon's head is the Hairy Skull, which is far more popular among the orcs than the Bread Skull.

Orcs' hairstyles are as flamboyant and extravagant as their weapons, either a tall, straight red hair like a spear or yellow hair like a circular saw blade embedded in their skull. As a result, they pity humans, thinking that their hair is too sparse and their fur is too short.

But piecing together a full head of hair is no easy task. A hairy squig only carries a single strand of hair. To create a full head of hair, one must have hundreds of hairy squigs with sharp claws and small teeth bite onto one's scalp and live by sucking blood and eating scalp secretions.

Abaddon's head was marked by a tuft of bright red hair on its head, which was clearly very special. Its tail was also exceptionally thick and wide. This one was equivalent to hundreds of hairy Sgugs, which was one of the main reasons why Kayan collected this hairy Sgug.

When the little guy got hungry, Kayan would toss a small piece of meat into his pocket to feed him. He thought this amusing creature would be his personal pet for life, until Abaddon, who had lost his braid, appeared before him.

"Kayan!" Abaddon gritted his teeth, feeling his sanity crumbling. Hot blood rushed to his head, turning his face red, and the fur on his head, Sgug, ate even more happily, the silent little animal expressing its joy by shaking its fur.

“War Commander!” Kayan immediately explained his actions, but he did not kneel before Abaddon, because his status was not as lowly as that of a War Commander. Kayan merely lowered his head, avoiding Abaddon's fiery eyes. “I did this to uphold your dignity as War Commander!”

"The majesty of a warlord?" Abaddon scoffed. He grabbed Kayan's armor with both hands. He was much stronger and more robust than Kayan, lifting Kayan's feet off the ground.

Mephitari stared intently at Abaddon's movements. If this guy dared to have any ill intentions towards her master, she would risk her life to leave Abaddon with a scar he would never forget.

Abaddon continued to roar, "When you put that damned Skull on my head, the authority of the Warmaster became a huge joke! Don't you think about how others will laugh at me when they know the truth! They'll say that Abaddon is not a War Master but a damn War Boss, and the Black Legion will go from a disciplined and powerful army to a rabble filled with spiky cans!"

Kayan, slightly out of breath, interrupted Abaddon's rage, saying, "But only if they know! Right now they know nothing, not even that your attack on the Punisher failed. You are still the undefeated Warmaster!"

Hearing Kayan say this, Abaddon gradually calmed down.

Yes... Kayan is right.

Regardless of what the future holds, at least for now they are unaware of their embarrassing defeat, having even lost their signature ponytail.

This hairy Slug is just an emergency measure; it won't stay with me forever.

After the battle is over, I'll stay in the life support pod for a while, and a new braid will grow.

Abaddon convinced himself, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then placed Kayan back on the ground.

"I'm so sorry, my brother, I lost my temper just now."