Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The black, putrid bodily fluids pooled into shallow puddles.

Broken bones and rotten flesh were mixed in with the mud and trampled into a paste by the footsteps of those who followed.

A peculiar odor permeated the air. The putrid smell was mostly suppressed by the purifying aura of the living saint. What remained was the smell of ozone produced by the supersonic flying object burning the air, and the burnt smell of organic matter cut by molecular-level blades.

The Plague Legion's command units behind the lines finally reacted.

Several Plague Lords riding corrupted warhorses burst out from the middle of the army and headed straight for Lawson in the air.

Their mounts were the size of rhinoceroses, with extra limbs and carapaces covered in pustules.

The lord himself was dressed in Terminator-level corrupted heavy armor and wielded a giant plague scythe.

The three Plague Lords rushed to a position two hundred meters away from Lawson's feet.

Er Gou and San Gou stood in the way.

Two Iron Cavalry-type Terminator armored vehicles stood side by side, the mud beneath their feet overflowing to both sides under the weight of the armor.

Each person is equipped with a Hellbrass Power Axe, the blade of which incorporates a large amount of Hellbrass smelted from the weapons of the Khorne Archdemon, making it as hard as adamantite.

The first Plague Lord's giant scythe slashed at Er Gou.

Er Gou raised his Storm Shield and took the blow head-on.

His Hellbrass Power Axe swung from the side of his shield, the blade cleaving into the neck of his corrupted warhorse.

The brass axe blade hissed and burned as it cut into the rotting flesh.

The warhorse's head was completely chopped off.

The Plague Lord, having lost his mount, fell to the ground. Before he could even stand up, Er Gou's boots stepped on his breastplate.

Er Gou's axe followed closely, splitting the Plague Lord's helmet and skull in two.

The second and third Plague Lords were intercepted by the Three Dogs.

His shield and axe moved simultaneously; the shield blocked a lord's scythe, while the axe swept across the forelegs of another lord's mount.

The two actions are completed within the same unit of time.

Two plague lords rolled to the ground.

San Gou stepped forward and swung his axe twice in quick succession.

The first axe severed the arm of a lord wielding his weapon, and the second axe cleaved into the throat of another lord.

All three Plague Lords were dealt with.

Lawson glanced at the scene from the air and continued to control the Shadow Wheel to harvest low-level minions on the battlefield.

In the drying room, Quintus sat on an ammunition box, holding an open can of meat in his hand.

He looked out at the battlefield outside the workshop.

Three hundred and one silver-white power armor warriors and thirty thousand elite infantrymen in gray armor are crushing the third wave of the Plague Legion's attack with overwhelming force.

The offensive was fierce, the advance was steady, and the firepower was abundant.

This was a fully armed and elite force, a completely different world from his exhausted and wounded soldiers.

Quintus was particularly shocked by the fighting style.

Their level of coordination is astonishing.

The shield bearer's blocking angle and the archer's firing timing are perfectly synchronized.

This level of synchronization surpassed that of any Imperial military unit he had ever seen, including the Ultramarines themselves.

And there's that guy named Lawson.

He was in the air, his silver wings spread wide.

Dozens of rapidly spinning silver frisbees surrounded it.

Quintus had met psionicists, the think tank chief, and the Grey Knights.

But he had never seen anyone control so many psionic projectiles at the same time, covering such a large area, and maintaining such precise control for such a long time.

What exactly is this thing?

Beside him, Victor was also munching on a can of food.

Viktor chewed on his meat while watching the battlefield outside, his mouth growing wider and wider.

"Company Commander."

"Ah."

"Those fighting brothers are too fierce."

"I saw."

Viktor swallowed the meat in his mouth and tilted his head to look at the figure in the sky with its silver wings spread out.

"Company Commander, just how many more trump cards does the Emperor have up its sleeve?"

Quintus did not answer, and scraped the last piece of minced meat into his mouth.

P.S.: Sorry, everyone. Today is my father's birthday, so I went back to my hometown. I wanted to get back earlier to write, but I was delayed. I'll update 12,000 words today and make up for the rest tomorrow.

Chapter 136 The Limitless Legion's Exorbitant IOU

When the eighty-one shadow wheels returned to his palm, the ground beneath Lawson's feet had already changed color.

From brownish-yellow to grayish-white, it was a carpet made up of the corpses of tens of thousands of plague walkers that had been purified.

After the system drained the subspace energy and toxic fumes, these once-walking, decaying containers became piles of dry organic matter.

Lawson stood a hundred meters in the air, his wing-like, living metal wings supporting him in the cold wind.

Nurgle's third wave of attacks has retreated.

The three low-ranking plague lords, riding corrupted warhorses, were separated from each other. The remaining low-ranking demons and mutants, having lost unified command, instinctively crawled towards safer directions.

They were retreating south, heading towards the main assembly area of ​​the Nurgle army.

"The entire army advances."

The White Tiger team's power armor boots crushed the corpses, allowing them to be the first to step out of the gap in the ruins.

Thirty thousand elite soldiers followed closely behind, heavy explosive rifles pointed forward, and laser rifles swept across the flanks.

They walked past the Plague Space Marines whose bodies were still half-writhing when a suicide soldier fired a final shot without looking back. The explosive shell detonated in a crack in the terracotta breastplate, spraying the already liquefied internal organs onto half a wall.

The suicide squad advanced ten kilometers and occupied a natural canyon ridge that stretched from east to west.

The north side of the canyon is a wasteland of farmland that has been ravaged by artillery fire countless times, while the gentle slope on the south side extends down to the plain, offering a wide field of vision and excellent firing range.

Lawson landed at the highest point of the ridgeline, stepping on a concrete slab charred by the plasma.

He glanced down at his feet, where the outline of the Imperial Eagle emblem and a few lines of blurred Gothic letters still remained on the concrete.

This is the foundation of an imperial defensive fortification.

Lawson turned around and looked at Quintus who was walking towards him.

"This is……"

“Your position,” Lawson finished for him.

Quintus stopped.

The thirteen Ultra Warriors behind him also stopped in their tracks.

These battle-hardened super soldiers silently gazed at the ruins of the bunkers that once belonged to them.

They held out here for nineteen days, repelling seven attacks by the Plague Legion. Finally, on the eighth attack, they were breached on the flank by Plague Space Marines who outnumbered them three to one, and were forced to abandon their position, destroy the ammunition depot, and retreat to Reaper Keep.

During that retreat, they lost six brothers from the third platoon and more than two hundred Star Guardians.

Viktor, leaning on a metal pipe he had dug out of the ruins, dragged his mutilated body to a collapsed bunker.

He touched the crater in the bunker wall that had been blasted by a bomb with his only remaining right hand.

“Fernandez died here.”

He said, "A plague shell pierced the observation post, and his face melted instantly."

"Sennash is in that trench."

Another Ultramariner pointed to a ditch on the left filled with corpses: "Nurgle's Terminator smashed him and his armor into the mud with a single blow."

Quintus remained silent.

He walked to a broken flagpole in the center of the position, knelt down on one knee, and dug a tattered Ultramarines battle flag out of the mud.

The blue fabric with a golden eagle logo has been corroded beyond recognition, leaving only a broken inverted U-shaped logo in the lower right corner: the Omega Ultramarines logo.

He pulled the battle flag out of the mud, shook off the loose dirt, folded it neatly, and stuffed it into the ammunition pouch at his waist.

Lawson leaned against a broken blast wall, calmly watching the Empire's most elite warriors search for the remains of their fallen comrades in the ruins.

Or rather, to search for things that have been corrupted by the plague to the point of being unrecognizable.

Sister Katrina walked up to Lawson: "Should we try to persuade them?"

Lawson shook his head.

"Let them read it."

Four minutes later, Quintus stood up and patted the Aquila crest on his chest, a symbol of swearing an oath to the dead in the tradition of the Ultramarines.

Lawson waited for him to finish, then clapped his hands.

"Finished the work? If you're done, listen to me."

"This ridgeline is a good location. There's nothing to cover within 500 meters of the gentle southern slope, making it an easy target for plague walkers. But don't count on your shabby bunkers."

He kicked a piece of concrete debris beside him: "The filthy venom has corroded the steel bars until they're as thin as noodles. We have to rebuild them."

Quintus nodded.

He knew the value of this ridgeline, which was why he chose to deploy his defenses there in the first place.

“I still have eight hundred Astral Army soldiers under my command, that's fine.”