Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

Chapter 175: Putting out a fire by starting a fire

"What's in here?" Antoine asked, while Komi answered based solely on the psionic visual afterimage he had obtained from touching the trade license earlier.

"It looks like a boxing glove."

Antoine opened it, and sure enough, it was the golden power gauntlet that Koken had described, adorned with Imperial Eagle and the blood-red Eye of Terra. Unfortunately, the gauntlet was badly damaged, covered in blood and cracks from past wars. Even if the Great Sage of the Mechanicus were to take a look, he would shake his head and say it was beyond saving.

But old things are always good, so Koken didn't hesitate and ordered Antoine to take it with him. Once back on the ship, he instructed Demas to do his best to repair it; if it worked, great, if not, it could be kept as a collectible.

Many items associated with the emperor were found, but few were intact and clean; most were worn and nearly broken from the ravages of war. It seems that Tarachin valued the historical significance of these items more when collecting them.

“We’ve collected a whole bunch of junk.” Bennett’s mouth became even more sarcastic and vicious without Hela’s company, but what he said was true. The group searched the collection platform for a long time, eliminating many undead warriors and escaping artifacts, but they didn’t find a single thing that was actually useful.

“Who said there isn’t one?” Komi’s lips curled up in a pleased smile. “That trade license is the biggest gain. A piece of parchment stained with the blood of the Corpse King is more deadly to those demons than anything else. If there are servants of the Blood God in the Bone and Blood Forest, this piece of paper will help us a lot.”

“The curse will eventually be broken.” Antoine shook his head, clearly remembering when he and the other unlucky guys were forcibly bound together by the curse, and he laughed and cursed at Bennett, “Now I can peel your skin off.”

"Heh... Let's see who can do it first." Bennett narrowed his eyes, scoffing at Antoine's half-joking, half-threatening words.

Feren, caught in the middle, played the good guy, trying to persuade them that even without the curse, they were comrades-in-arms who would fight to the death together.

Of all the people, only Sharon's expression was somewhat stiff; he forced a smile and remained silent.

Komi and his group's looting didn't last long, because a loud bang came from the center of the museum, followed by a figure formed of light floating in mid-air.

That was the enraged Tarasin, who brandished his fists and vowed to arrest everyone who had vandalized his museum and make amends for the damage!

"Legions! Holy Guards! Protect the dynasty's treasures! Imprison these invaders alive!"

The true master of Solemnas infused his rage into his commands, accomplishing what even the tomb engineers combined could not. The museum built on the tomb was like the heart of a beast, each beat signifying the emergence of thousands of warriors from the grave.

The Immortals are the true soldiers of the Necromancers of Space. Those who wield Gauss rifles and are called Necromancers by the Empire are nothing more than cannon fodder converted from civilians. They do not understand tactics or how to dodge; they simply fire and advance like the most clumsy machines.

These immortals retained a certain degree of consciousness after their biological transformation. The captains of these immortals even possessed individual personalities. The experience of ancient wars flowed through their bodies, which were then projected with heavy Gaussian beams onto the intruders who had offended the majesty of the Endless Tarasin.

Those Black Templars who preferred melee combat even more than the Dark Angels were all reduced to ashes in this volley of fire. Their genetic seeds could not be recovered, which was undoubtedly a heavy loss for the Black Templars.

However, the sacrifice will not make the Black Templars retreat, but will only make them hate the aliens in front of them even more.

The fleet admiral raised his shield and longsword, shouting the Emperor's holy name as he led the charge, vowing to make these aliens pay a thousandfold price.

Tarasim also summoned the most elite coffin guards in the dynasty, even though he was incredibly wealthy, his coffin guards numbered no more than a hundred.

Such a small number signifies their exceptional combat prowess. Their living metal shells are inlaid with precious metals second only to Tarasin's, and their movements are devoid of any mechanical stiffness, making one wonder if these coffin guards could even be compared to the most skilled and flexible martial artists among humans.

The weapons they were equipped with were so powerful that they were astonishing. The full-body shield, protected by a surging energy barrier, could withstand a volley of fire from a Space Marine Destroyer squad, and another phase weapon, flashing with a dangerous deep green light, could directly cleave enemies in two from the spatial plane.

However, not all of these powerful guards were deployed by Talathin to fight against the Dark Angels and the Black Templars. Instead, they were used more to combat the bizarre artifacts that Talathin had collected over countless years.

As the profound terror that could drive mortals mad retreated step by step under the slaughter of the Coffin Guard, Tarasin felt his non-existent heart bleeding.

In fact, his feelings were not an illusion. His core was indeed damaged due to excessive temperature, causing some pipelines to break. Super-lubricating oil and condensate were dripping from his body.

With the demon engine, Vashtor took everything they saw: the collection platform that hadn't yet sunk, the incapacitated undead warrior's body, and even the black stone that had been turned into a museum and the tomb beneath it.

He was a frugal, hardworking, and idealistic great devil who would accept anything that seemed to help build his divine kingdom.

The museum’s excessive chaos and size have not yet brought these forces together; everyone has their own tasks to perform. Only Tarachin is now seeing the hydraulic pressure surge as the museum’s damage gradually worsens.

“Overlord, we should activate those Destroyers. Our slowly recovering army can't drive them away in a short time,” the Tomb Technician suggested to Tarasin. Tarasin's first reaction was to deny it, and then he fell into silence, pondering the Tomb Technician's suggestion.

Among the Necromancers of space, there are beings like Tarachin who retain relatively complete thought, and others like the Tomb Technician and the Immortal Captain who retain some consciousness, but most are soulless and mindless machines.

The nobles of the Necromancers refused to acknowledge this, believing that their subjects were still alive, only now silent and withdrawn.

Among these machines are those that have fallen into a destructive tendency. They have forgotten everything about themselves and almost instinctively hate the living and the world they inhabit. The echo of that nihilistic destruction can even form a data disease that spreads to other undead machines.

Not only Tarasim, but every dynasty had such a batch of dangerous destructive machines at its disposal. However, some overlords would regard these destructive machines as good helpers in conquering the weak, while Tarasim preferred to seal these dangerous and difficult-to-control machines away.

Besides pouring water on it, another way to extinguish a raging fire is to set off another fire and burn out all the oxygen, Tarasin thought.

“But they’ll tear my museum apart…” Tarachin gritted his teeth, his anxiety so intense that he even started gnawing on his metal fingers. “However, they’ll prioritize hunting down the living… As long as we get rid of those idiots from the Imperial Empire and those warp monsters, the damage to the museum is…acceptable…”

Having made up his mind, Tarasin didn't need to speak to give orders to the entire tomb; all he needed to do was send a signal through the data processor in his head.

But he still ceremoniously swung his arm, shaking his noble robes, and roared, "Release the Destroyer!"

Chapter 176: It's a Good Thing to Have Many Big Dog-Stealing Enthusiasts

These machines, which only knew how to kill in a frenzy, left their graves the moment Tarachin made up his mind, and flashed onto the battlefield the instant Tarachin uttered his last word.

Before the ancient museum stood a group of these destructive machines. Tarachin had even specially marked them, giving them crimson eyes like those of the Terminator from the old movie, which gleamed in the museum's mist.

Necromancer, Immortal, Tomb Servant, Tomb Technician...

They come in almost every type. They are like beings that can be defined as zombies by the space necromancers. After smelling the flesh on the ancient ones, they silently run over and try to disembowel them.

The metallic bodies of the space necromancers are incredibly strong. Under the influence of their destructive tendencies, these zombie-like machines even managed to break through their self-defense threshold locks, unleashing a terrifying 200% force from their bodies that were already under 100% pressure.

An arm slammed down towards Gu Mian's face with lightning speed. Generally speaking, it is difficult to dodge while wearing this heavy Terminator armor. Most Terminators rely on the relative sturdiness of the armor and the ferocity of their weapons to exchange injury for death.

However, Komi is no ordinary guy; he has the strength to make the Terminator armor perform agile evasive maneuvers.

With a backward leap, he dodged away, and the mad necromancer's arm and the collection platform he smashed into pieces.

Even with one arm missing, he didn't give up, and with an abstract and elusive movement pattern, he sprinted over again.

Several explosive shells embedded themselves in his chest, and the flames from the explosions burned the equipment wrapped under his rib-shaped armor. The cables flowed downwards due to the explosions, as bizarrely as intestines sliding out of a gaping hole in a person's abdomen.

"Thanks, Ferren." Koji knew he could easily handle the undead, but he was happy to accept help from teammates.

Knowing that the space necromancers wouldn't die even if their heads were cut off, Komi's every swing was either from bottom to top or from top to bottom, splitting the necromancers in two.

Such an attack was indeed very effective; Komi had never seen a necromancer jump up with only half a body.

He remained at the forefront, attracting the most attention from the undead, while Antoine and Bennett tried to take away as many seemingly useful collectibles as possible.

Bennett sighed; the plundering work once again reminded him of Hela, who had brought him countless joys and comforts...

"Stop fucking crying! Get to work!" Antoine couldn't stand Bennett's mental state any longer and grabbed a broken piece of black stone, throwing it at him.

Bennett suppressed her sobs, lowered her head, and put the collection into a sturdy bag sewn from the skin of a wild beast.

After slaying over a hundred samurai and more than thirty immortals, Komi finally encountered a tough nut to crack: a serpentine destroyer capable of moving through shadows and even the crevices of space. This creature slithered around Komi like a snake, its numerous phantoms interfering with Komi's judgment.

He had already assassinated dozens of Space Marines with his bizarre methods. His metallic body was stuffed with trophies of flesh, dripping blood, which tolled the death knell for Komi.

Another cunning old fox who can't tell the real from the fake.

Koji curled his lip, recalling the illusion dancer who had received the blessing of karmic abhorrence. He didn't linger on the serpentine destroyer any longer and directly drew his rarely used explosive pistol and fired at the phantom.

You can't hit the honest ones, but you're always right when it comes to hitting the illusory ones.

The serpentine destroyer's defenses were not much stronger than those of the undead warriors and immortals. There were bullet holes in his forehead and torso, and the unburned flames of the explosive charge and green sparks of electricity sprayed out of the wounds together.

Koji couldn't help but laugh as he looked at the serpentine destroyer. It seemed that his passive ability wasn't entirely useless. If he encountered those Ark Eldar or Dark Eldar who didn't like to fight head-on and preferred to hide and ambush, he could pick up a machine gun and play with it.

Ah...then this passive skill should be renamed.

He wasn't inaccurate with long-range shooting; rather, he was offering a harmless reward for the courage of enemies charging towards him.

When the Serpent Destroyer lost his ability to disappear into the shadows, he became a lamb to the slaughter. Komi cut off his claws and the arm equipped with the Phase Blade, intending to keep them for his own use.

The Necromancer's technology was indeed reassuring; even detached from the machine, these phase blades still possessed surging energy flowing along their edges.

The power sword could rest for a while. Komi had long wanted to get rid of this light and flimsy weapon. He really liked the weighty feel of the phase heavy blade, so he grabbed one in each hand and charged towards the surging space undead.

This weapon is so powerful that Komi doesn't even need to deliberately stack passives, allowing him to deeply appreciate the beauty of numerical values.

The flesh-cutting and armor-slicing were so smooth that Koji felt as if he had struck thin air. But looking at the enemy's body suddenly split open, he chuckled with amusement.

The undead were fearless; they obeyed orders and gathered around Komi.

Other collectibles with souls and thoughts kept their distance from Koga, fearing that the Terminator's killing spree would also target them.

In the midst of a battle where they forgot about time and fatigue, Komi and his group finally ran into the Dark Angels and the Black Sanctuary.

Kouken saw it clearly: Azrael smashed an immortal with his shield and occasionally glanced toward the Black Temple.

He could guess Azrael's thoughts with his bare hands; he was probably afraid that the Black Temple had found out something about the fallen angels.

Komi was right; that was exactly what Azrael thought. However, compared to the more extreme and ruthless old hunters in the Dark Angels Chapter, he was already considered a mild-mannered and kind-hearted person.

While slaying his enemies, he kept a close eye on the Black Sanctuary's movements. If they showed even the slightest inclination to inquire about his fallen angels, he would have to make the most difficult decision.

Slaughtering friendly forces is a disgrace, but it is more acceptable than the secrets of the fallen angels being exposed to the Empire.

An even larger fireball erupted from the museum, illuminating the entire cave as if it were daytime.

This is clearly the result of those assault teams sabotaging the necromancer energy system.

"Enough! Enough! I said enough!"

The explosion extinguished Tarasin's last shred of sanity. He screamed and roared without any aristocratic grace, completely ignoring the complicated awakening rituals, and forcibly pulled a group of warriors to stand beside him.

He even went so far as to order the leveling of a large area in front of him, causing the collection and the complex museum corridors to disappear along with it.

Tarachin's mechanical eyes glowed a crimson like those of the destruction machine as he delivered his final declaration of annihilation to the audacious Dark Angel and the Black Sanctuary.

As for the real culprit, Komi, he temporarily ignored him, not believing that Komi and the five members of the Losers' Gang could do anything earth-shattering.

He ignored Komi, but that doesn't mean Komi wanted to let him off the hook.

Who wouldn't want to rob a rich dog? Especially since this rich dog isn't even human, Gu Jian feels no guilt whatsoever when he robs him.

This guy's Transference Annihilation Staff is pretty good, let's see if we can get our hands on it.

Chapter 177: Emperor? I saved your life!

The Overlord's furious gaze failed to end the chaos in the museum. The Dark Angel and the Black Sanctuary paid no heed to the Xenomorph's anger and grievances. The more they fought in the museum, the clearer their goal became: to completely destroy this place.

The overlord before us has imprisoned countless loyal ministers of the empire as his playthings; such blasphemous acts cannot be purified even by burning them with flames.

"Repent!" Azmodari was still the most passionate warrior, charging towards Tarasin under the cover of his teammates' fire.

The person blocking his way was a coffin guard, whose gaze was filled with the same rage as Tarachin's, indicating that Tarachin had overridden the original owner of this body with his consciousness.

A chilling gaze and a dangerous phase blade slashed at Azmodari almost simultaneously.

Oh no! Something's wrong with this alien's weapon!

Superman's intuition reminded Azmodari that he must regain his senses and not continue acting recklessly.

He broke out in a cold sweat and, in a flash, swung the Flail of Repentance. The weapon that had accompanied him through many battles was split in two by the phase blade, completely unable to block the blade's deflection.