Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

Meanwhile, the buzzing scarabs unfurled their sharp legs and charged toward the dark angels. They were small in size but incredibly fast; if a warrior were caught in their midst, he would be reduced to a skeleton in just a few seconds.

Faced with the weapons of the space necromancers, defense was no longer effective; the only option was to rely on greater speed and firepower to defeat the ever-resurrecting legion.

This is why Eldar warriors, who have fought against the Necromancer dynasties of space, overemphasize the characteristics of being lightweight and agile.

However, within the human empire, there are still some pieces of equipment that can withstand Gaussian electric arcs that can directly disintegrate elementary particles. These are ancient relics that have withstood the blessings of a thousand years and the test of ten thousand battles.

These broad shields, their surfaces adorned with the remains of heroes, are imbued with a powerful force of faith, along with the resentful echoes of countless demons who failed to breach their defenses. All of this merges together to form an incredibly mystical subspace defensive barrier.

Azrael possessed such a shield, entirely white with green trim, its skeletal arms clasped together in the center, adorned with several pure runes on either side. The pious power emanating from it continuously nourished Azrael, allowing him to forget his physical fatigue.

The volley of several Gauss rifles was deflected, but what happened during that reaction was not something Azrael wanted to know.

The relatively slow firing interval of the Gauss rifle gave Azrael enough time to close the distance, and with just one horizontal slash, he cut dozens of undead warriors in half at the waist.

Chapter 173: Your House Was Vandalized

However, the undead's activities do not cease due to such simple trauma. The living metal spontaneously repairs the damage, attempting to reassemble the separated body, and the warriors, following the instructions to expel the intruders, crawl toward Azrael, trying to drag him into hell with their bare hands.

Those rough and mottled claws were incredibly sharp, leaving marks on Azrael's magnificent and exquisite armor, but he still charged forward like a storm, not forgetting to stomp on the warriors' torsos and crush their heads.

The wreckage piled up in the museum, and the protected artifacts, which had not yet sunk, became unstable under the bombardment of stray bullets. These lives, which had been trapped in the cycle of reincarnation for who knows how long, stood upright in the museum in the next instant.

"What kind of place is this?" A rough, confused voice rang out. They remembered that they had just been having a good time fighting with a bunch of shrimps, and the next moment they found themselves in this chaotic and magnificent museum that looked like a dream.

"The throne is above me... I'm going to vomit..." The Astragalus soldiers from Katachon spat out saliva. There were three regiments of them. The Katachon soldiers gripped their daggers tightly, glaring and cursing the orcs for their cunning. It must have been these damned green-skinned beasts who led them here.

The orcs shrugged, thinking that fighting was no big deal, and simply picked up clubs and axes to smash down on the various things around them. When they saw cracks appear on the crystal-like surface of the field, they chuckled and found the phenomenon extremely amusing.

Chaos spread like wildfire throughout the museum as Tarachins broke through containment one by one in his quest for authentic living artifacts. Tyranid swarms, alien beasts, and even pitiful creatures inhabited by demons unleashed their confusion and rage.

This chaotic surge alarmed Azrael and the other dark angels, leaving them momentarily unsure of who to focus their primary combat efforts on.

"So many aliens! So many heretics! Waa ...

"Repent! Repent!"

"Azmodel! Watch out!"

Azrael loudly reminded him, hoping that Azmodari wouldn't venture too far into enemy territory out of rage, as being alone in the middle of the enemy lines was not a good tactical choice.

As expected, the green Gaussian beam struck Azrael's chest, almost instantly disintegrating his green cloak.

The pain of disintegration exceeded the limits of what the Space Marine could endure. Azmodari's rage was abruptly interrupted by the agony. He knelt on the ground, looking down, and could see his breastplate and flesh being devoured by the green light.

Am I going to die here? Can I no longer continue to hunt down those damned fallen angels for the Emperor?

How shameful! How hateful! How despicable!

Superman's brain can think of many things in the moment of death, but what truly ignited Azmodari's rage was a small object that he cherished and protected.

A black pearl that rolled to the ground was proof that he had successfully made a fallen angel repent for his betrayal; it could be said to be his second life.

Azmodai reached out with trembling hands, trying to pick up the black pearl that had rolled on the ground, but a mutated foot with sharp nails and festering sores stepped on it first.

"Loyal dogs of the Empire, you will die at the feet of the Great Foot Mahens! Hahahaha!"

The whispers of the demon host could not be refused; this sound, which struck the very soul, was far more distinct than any roar. Yet, at this moment, Azmodari could only hear the faint crackling of his black pearl beneath the demon host's feet.

"Black Pearl...."

"What did you say?"

"My black pearl...my black pearl!!!"

All the pain instantly left Azmodari's body. With bloodshot eyes, he slammed the Hammer of Repentance into the face of the demon host, plunging the demon into a prolonged daze with a single blow.

Azrael, who had come to rescue Azmodan, also stopped in his tracks. He saw the undefendable and undispellable light of Gaussian disintegration gradually fading away, leaving only a charred hole in Azmodan.

"My Black Pearl! My Black Pearl!" Azmody roared as he smashed every inch of the demon host's flesh, and he was unable to put up any effective resistance against Azmody until the demon was banished from reality.

Killing the demon host wasn't enough for Azmodari; he set his sights on the undead warriors lined up in formation. Once again, he charged ahead alone, tearing apart the undead warriors' volley fire formation single-handedly, forcing them to engage in close combat with Azmodari while wielding Gauss rifles.

“His fury is truly a treasure of the chapter,” Belial remarked. Samuel nodded in agreement, while Azrael sighed, pondering how to prevent Azmodari from taking his anger out on the new recruits after the battle.

The Dark Angels were virtually unstoppable, and the museum artifacts that escaped from the prison kept the tomb engineers extremely busy. After a brief discussion, the engineers decided to recall the true master of Solemnus, for only he had the authority to unlock the most powerful weapon in the Dynasty Treasury and end all the chaos.

"Quickly, go and invite the overlord Tarasin!"

Then the dome collapsed, a heavy cannon shot tore open a huge gap, and the Black Sanctuary descended from the sky, destroying everything in sight.

......

The weather was fine and the sun was shining brightly.

The human empire has never lacked planets that inspire awe and wonder. The empire's territory spans the entire galaxy, and among the millions of planets, there are always a few heavyweight hells that make the emperor feel dizzy, and a few harmonious worlds that make the emperor feel that humanity can still be saved.

Here, Tarasin basked in the glow of the stars in this galaxy, witnessing the boundless beauty of the clear ocean, and was captivated by the vibrant sounds of life beneath its surface.

Unfortunately, as dynasties gradually awaken, few overlords and emperors can appreciate the beauty of nature like Tarachin. They are only focused on whether their dynasty's power can be further expanded when the Silent King returns, and take this opportunity to settle ancient grudges from 60 million years ago or even longer.

“How boring they are… They only remember those mundane things and have forgotten why we started this war.” Tarasin took a bottle of wine from his servant, who was very old and whose children might take over the job next year.

After downing the fragrant liquor in one gulp, Tarasin could sense its flavor using advanced machinery, but that was all he could do. He couldn't digest the liquor like a living being, nor could he experience the blissful feeling of intoxication. He could only extract past data from his memory core to simulate a kind of illusion that was indistinguishable from reality.

This moment of leisure was interrupted after a minute, and Tarasin was quite unhappy that someone had disturbed his relaxation, but he still patiently read the first paragraph of the message.

"Your museum has been vandalized by 1.5%..."

The first few words sent a chill down Tarashin's spine, and then the system announced in his ear that his core temperature was too high and that he needed to add more cooling fluid.

"You son of a bitch! Who dares to cause trouble in my museum!"

Tarasin ripped off his casual sunglasses, and without bothering to explain to his servant, hastily activated the transfer protocol. His mechanical data soul detached from his flesh-and-iron body and headed towards the distant Solemnas.

Chapter 174: Old Man Huang Gives Me Gold Coins

“I think now is a good time, isn’t it?” Vashtor asked again. This was the sixth time he had asked Komi in the past three hours, which showed how fiercely the flame of plunder was burning in his heart.

Every second they stay here means more artifacts in the museum will be destroyed in the war, and the treasures they can plunder will become even scarcer.

Komi thought about it and felt that Vastor's eagerness was reasonable, so he chose to go into the museum with his old comrades from the Losers' War Gang.

Vashtor had no intention of streamlining his forces; he had a quarter of the Ark's troops on the teleporters, and if he built a teleportation point in the museum, he could guide his troops to flood the museum.

The moment the Nightmare's Beginning Ark and the Fifth Walker left the asteroid belt and entered the prediction range of the warship's oracle, they were detected by the fleets of the Dark Angels and the Black Sanctuary. They tried to stop the Nightmare's Beginning Ark's advance, but found that these two ships, full of chaotic corruption, would appear on the other side of the planet. They had to adjust the fleet's position in order to stop them.

At this moment, the Inquisition fleet responsible for monitoring the Dark Angels' unusual activities set out. They first made a statement to the suspicious Dark Angels, and then shouted in the name of the Emperor to intercept the advance of the Ark of Nightmare's Beginning.

“These mosquitoes…” Vashtor was quite annoyed by the Inquisition fleet’s lack of appreciation. He was linked to the huge ark and, without any delay, controlled the torpedoes, which were filled with demon engines, to launch at the Inquisition’s ships.

These torpedoes have undergone special modifications, giving them the valuable ability to traverse subspace and avoid damage while maintaining a certain speed.

The Tribunal's ships used a barrage of artillery fire to intercept the torpedo bombardment, but could only watch helplessly as these ferocious torpedoes briefly leaped into subspace and then flashed out again, with some ships inevitably being hit by the torpedoes.

The demonic engines unleash endless carnage within the ships, and each mortal they hunt alleviates their heavy debts.

The Ark of Nightmare's Beginning had an incredibly thick outer shell; even a barrage of light spears from the Inquisition warships couldn't penetrate it in one shot. This floating polymer spaceship had no other drawbacks except that it was too conspicuous, too slow, and difficult to defend against from all angles.

The ark, comparable in size to an asteroid, was equipped with a massive evil dragon cannon. The fireballs it spewed were almost as fast as the macro cannons. According to the demonic meter's prediction of the future, it hit a Tribunal warship. The demonic fire instantly filled the entire ship, annihilating and mutating all life.

Vashtor had no intention of wasting too much time on the Inquisition's fleet. As soon as he entered the vicinity of Solemnas, he transformed into a noisy and chaotic mass of data that flowed downwards, directly contaminating the undead remains on the ground and using these living metals to reshape his body.

The appearance of the colossal demon brought some life to the gloomy necropolis. Ezekiel's eyes widened; he had never sensed such unfamiliar demonic energy since becoming the chief think tank.

A new demon? A new source of chaos?

Ezekiel ordered the reserve force to be ready to join him in the center of the battlefield to slay demons and monsters.

Meanwhile, a clean silver glint flashed within the fleet of the Inquisition. A combat squad of fifteen grey knights had already wiped out hundreds of demonic engines that had infiltrated the warship. The mortal soldiers who had witnessed their presence were also silenced. Their solemn faces turned toward Solemnus and disappeared in a bolt of lightning with a gleaming silver sheen.

Vashtor is a demon who keeps his promises. After completing the teleportation point and gathering his subordinates around him, he did not forget Komi, who was on the Fifth Walker.

Emerging from the faint ripples, Komi nodded to Vashtor. They would split up, and what they gained would depend entirely on luck.

"Where should we begin?" Bennett asked Komi for his opinion, having complete faith in Komi's knowledge.

However, Komi only knew the general situation and knew nothing about the details of the Solemnas Museum.

Ultimately, he could only rely on his understanding of Tarachin's character to walk towards the increasingly chaotic exhibition hall.

After killing the Tyranid bug that had hatched and grown thirty minutes earlier, Komi quickly scanned everything before him. The sheer number of treasures made it difficult for him to make a choice.

However, some people don't hesitate. Ferren, who was known for his clumsy hands, pointed at a solid crystal with his finger and asked, "What is this?"

Crack! The crystal shattered on the ground.

Then a few dazed Adarin appeared. These clever creatures had long seen through the cruel reality of their imprisonment in the museum, and after being unexpectedly released, they were filled with fear, wondering if the Tarachin had come up with a new way to play.

"Eldar? How boring." Seeing that these Eldar had no temper, Feren smashed their skulls with a few punches.

Gu Jian was indifferent to the deaths of the Spirit Clan. He wandered around searching for a treasure of sufficient value, and finally set his sights on a golden crystal. He cleaved it with his sword, and cracks appeared in the crystal.

The crystal shattered, glittering with golden light. Komi thought it was a piece of equipment, but he didn't expect it to be an ancient parchment. Tiny words were piled up on the upper half of the parchment, while the lower half contained only a simple promise.

"In the name of the Lord of Mankind and the Ruler of Terra, I grant your family the power to seek benefits for humanity across the stars."

At the bottom was a bloody fingerprint, much larger than the Space Marine's finger.

Could this be a trade license personally issued by the Emperor?

Koken's eyes widened. Putting aside the immense power this trade license represented for the current empire, the mere sight of this long-dried blood fingerprint was enough to drive countless world religions mad.

Am I qualified to carry such a sacred object?

Even today, Koji still hopes to remain pure. He is unwilling to sell his soul for the gods of the Warp. He reaches out his hand with trembling hands, hoping to touch the trade license.

"Wait, Marcus...you'll be reduced to ashes!" Sharon's face was filled with terror. He was the one who despised the Emperor the most among them, but now he was so frightened by the bloody fingerprint and that flamboyant signature that he wanted to vomit.

Komi hardened his heart, ignoring Sharon's advice, and grabbed a corner of the trade license. The vast power carried by the Emperor's Blood Finger Mark surged directly into Komi's body through his hands, like a huge fire rising inside him, scorching Komi so much that he couldn't scream and could only grit his teeth and endure it.

Antoine hugged Komi, trying to separate him from the trade license, but it was no use; it only plunged him into the same immense pain as Komi.

At that moment, Antoine recalled a phrase that those loyal ministers of emperors often used to scorn them.

When the revered one on the throne rises, you traitors will be consumed by the fires of guilt under his sun-like gaze...

Just when Antoine thought he was about to die there, the scorching heat from the burning ring disappeared without a trace, and Komi was able to obtain the trade license containing the blood of the emperor.

Komi bent down and leaned against the high platform, shaking his head to clear away the golden illusions that remained before his eyes, which were mostly churches and crowds of worshippers.

"Antoine...go and break that crystal." Komi removed Antoine's arm from his body and gave him a clear order to go to the display stand in front.