Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The force field barrier emitted a faint blue glow at the main entrance.

In the distance, the footsteps of the patrol team faded into the distance.

The little wrench crouched in the corner, one pointed ear pressed against the wall, the other ear perked up alertly.

From one person with one knife, to ninety-one people, nine squads, a dual-core outpost, a hunting network, and an intelligence system.

He built an army in this death maze of three million green-skinned soldiers.

"Big Shrimp Boss!"

The little wrench sprang up from the wall, its two big ears sticking out like two green sails.

"Iron Fang Tribe! The Iron Fang Tribe's Great Leader is calling! He's talking about a great war! A great war is coming! All brothers, come! Go down there and kill those red-skinned demons!"

“Iron Fang Tribe,” Lawson repeated the name.

"Yes, yes, yes! The Iron Fang Tribe! A huge tribe! A very, very big one!"

Little Wrench nodded frantically: "Little Wrench had heard Old Master say before that the big boss of the Iron Fang tribe was called Iron Fang Gruk! A very powerful orc! He could smash through those thick iron doors with one punch!"

How many Greenskins are in Irontooth's tribe?

The little wrench's expression froze for a moment.

It blinked its big eyes and opened and closed its mouth twice.

"Uh... a lot?"

How much exactly?

"A lot?"

"How's their combat strength? Do they have Norber? Do they have Tech Master? What about heavy weapons?"

Little Wrench's brain was clearly severely overloaded.

It tilted its head and thought for a long time, its nimble claws gesturing wildly in the air, and finally gave an answer that made Lawson both laugh and cry.

"The little wrench doesn't know; the little wrench is just someone who tightens screws."

Its two big ears drooped down, looking pitiful as if it were ready to be beaten at any moment.

Lawson didn't hit it.

Do you know which direction the Iron Fang Tribe's camp is in?

"Know!"

Little Wrench's ears perked up again: "Big Tech Master repaired cannons for the Iron Fang Tribe twice before! Little Wrench went with them! From here to that side."

It pointed with one paw towards the northeast of the stronghold: "Go very, very far, through that wide corridor, down two decks, and you'll see their camp!"

"The general location is clear, but the specific route and camp layout are unclear," Lawson concluded to himself.

enough.

With the location determined, the rest is up to reconnaissance.

Chapter 30: An Opportunity to Replenish Ammunition (Third Update)

Lawson leaned against the roadblock and began to do some calculations in his mind.

He now has ninety assassins under his command.

The equipment looked decent: laser guns, bomb guns, grenades, chainsaw swords—the armory and the workshop were the two sources that sustained the initial period of rapid troop buildup.

But the intense hunting operations of the past few days were consuming his ammunition reserves at a rate he had not anticipated.

.75 caliber ammunition is consumed most rapidly by explosive guns.

Each round is a non-renewable physical ammunition, and the stock in the arsenal has dwindled to a level that has begun to make him frown.

The laser gun's rechargeable magazines could theoretically be recharged by connecting to the Empire's standard power supply, but the power supply system on the wrecked ship had long been completely paralyzed, so the assassins could only maintain firing by using spare magazines they scavenged.

Hand grenades and explosives were in short supply.

Number 6 was still faithfully performing its guard and transport duties in the armory, but even the most skilled cook cannot cook without rice. That armory was the only source of ammunition, and the stock was limited; every round used was one less available.

Looking to find another similar arsenal?

Lawson recalled the composition of the wrecked ship.

It was not a complete Imperial warship.

It is a super steel graveyard formed by the compression and fusion of a large number of different types of Imperial warships, civilian merchant ships, alien spaceships, and even some ancient wreckages of unknown eras in the warp.

Although there are remnants of imperial warships, they are scattered throughout the wrecked ship, which is 120 kilometers in diameter.

Without the Little Imp's intelligence guidance, finding another undiscovered weapons depot in this intricate metal maze would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Lawson turned his gaze in another direction.

Before he died, Fizekes said that the weapons and equipment carried by the 88th Assault Unit were looted by the Greenskins and taken back to their camp.

Even by the standards of the Imperial Astronautical Army, a 7,000-strong Astronautical Army assault force carries a considerable amount of ammunition and heavy weapons.

Now, Little Wrench tells him that a large tribe called Irontooth Gruk is gathering surrounding smaller tribes, preparing to go out in full force to fight the demons on the Deep Deck.

They swarmed out...

These four words echoed in Lawson's mind several times.

The orc army's expedition means that the camp will become empty.

If the Iron Fang tribe's camp is stockpiled with Imperial equipment looted from the 88th Assault Force...

Lawson's lips curled into a slight smile.

He issued orders to Squad Leader No. 1 of Class A and Squad Leader No. 7 of Class B through telepathic communication.

"Each of you take two men and infiltrate from the northeast. Locate the Iron Fang tribe's camp, confirm its location, size, defensive layout, and supply levels. Do not be discovered."

Number 1 and Number 7 each led two assassins and set off along two separate routes.

Following the general direction indicated by the small wrench, they used the intricate ventilation ducts and maintenance compartments inside the wrecked ship to penetrate northeastward.

Before long, Number 1's consciousness signal returned with clear visual images.

Lawson immediately switched perspectives.

The Iron Teeth tribe's camp was built in a huge cargo hub on deck sixty-nine.

This hub station has an area of ​​at least 10,000 square meters.

The ceiling is nearly 20 meters high, and there are more than a dozen freight access entrances of varying sizes around the perimeter.

The central area of ​​the camp was surrounded by a rough wall made of scrap iron and broken armor plates, about three meters high, and covered with all sorts of trophies.

Inside the walled compound was a typical Greenskin tribal camp.

No human being would describe this place as orderly.

Hundreds of makeshift shacks made of scrap metal and bones were scattered throughout the camp.

The open space between the shacks was piled with garbage, bones, broken weapons, and rotting unidentified organic matter.

Lawson quickly assessed the size of the camp.

The number of fart demons was enormous, densely packed in every corner, at least three or four thousand.

They are as busy as ants, carrying scrap metal, fighting for food, battling each other, and engaging in all sorts of green-skinned daily activities that even observers cannot comprehend.

The number of Orc Boys is approximately between three and four hundred.

Lawson saw at least five enormous figures, significantly larger than the orc boy, Norber.

They sat or stood, scattered throughout different areas of the camp, each Norber surrounded by a circle of orc boys as guards.

On the eastern side of the camp, Number 1 discovered something that caught Lawson's eye.

A material storage area covering at least 500 square meters.

It was piled high with all sorts of spoils of war, the vast majority of which were equipment looted from the Imperial Army.

Dozens of standard Imperial ammunition boxes were piled up haphazardly in the corner, some of them already pried open, their ammunition rummaged through by the Greenskins.

But Lawson could see a large number of .75 caliber explosive shells gleaming in the light; those shells were too small for the orcs, who preferred their own crudely made large-caliber Deathgun ammunition.

A dozen or so Imperial-style heavy weapons were scattered throughout the supply area.

Heavy bomb guns, three Hunter anti-tank laser cannons, and at least two complete Imperial Vulcan multi-barrel machine guns, as well as some others covered by rags and not clearly visible.

Lawson took a deep breath in his mind.

This was not an ordinary supply replenishment mission.

This is a strategic operation that will enable him to achieve a qualitative leap in combat effectiveness.

The reconnaissance team on the 7th also sent back supplementary intelligence.

From another perspective, it was confirmed that the camp had twelve main entrances and exits.

Six of them are freight access lanes facing the hub station, four are staircases and elevators connecting the upper and lower decks, and the other two are temporary access lanes opened up by green-skinned workers.

On the 7th, a situation was observed unfolding outside the camp.

Small groups of green-skinned tribes are converging on the Irontooth tribe's camp from all directions.

The small tribes, ranging in size from dozens to hundreds, poured into the Iron Fang tribe's camp, carrying their own weapons and spoils, to join the army that was about to set off.

This confirms Little Wrench's intelligence.

The Iron Fang tribe is gathering its vassal tribes from the surrounding area, assembling its forces to prepare for an advance into the deep deck.

The assembly is still underway.

Lawson estimated that once all the small tribes had gathered, Irontooth's total force would reach at least six thousand.

With 6,000 greenskins going to war, it means that at most only a small number of guards will remain in the camp.

This is determined by the nature of green-skinned animals.

In the world of orcs, staying behind to guard the home base is a disgrace. Any orc lad who considers himself somewhat capable will rush to join the army on the expedition. In the Greenskins' value system, missing a Waaagh battle is worse than death.

Those who remain at the camp are always the weakest, most useless, and least fit to fight.