Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Agrippina's defense system was nothing like that of the Empire.

Those heavily armored assassins were like killing machines connected to the same brain.

No matter how many men Guzog sent, no matter how thick the poison fog was, or how fiercely the demon engine roared, the enemy's firing rhythm never faltered.

What truly chilled him was the sight of those five-meter-tall behemoths wielding refractive force field shields, pressing forward like a moving city wall.

The filthy miasma sprayed onto the shield only created a layer of greenish corrosive aura, failing to penetrate the shield at all.

The demonic engine summoned by the Dark Mechanic roared and pounced forward, only to have its hydraulic joints shattered by the adamantite-powered giant hammer a second later.

That sound had become the most terrifying echo in the entire plain.

"My lord!"

"The third echelon of possessed warriors is wiped out! There are at least three layers of underground firepower around the fortress; we can't break through!"

"The Cataclysmic Guardians on the orbit refuse to continue providing cover fire! They say the deflector shields are about to overload! The Plague Ravens accuse them of deliberately giving way to the Imperial Fleet's light spears, drawing them to their own sides..."

"Shut up."

The adjutant shut up.

But the battle report didn't shut up.

New loss data kept rolling out, like nooses hanging all over the walls of the command post.

The third anchor point on the ground has lost contact.

The Dark Mechanicus node two has been removed.

The Sons of Corruption's forward team has less than 20% remaining.

Chaos Knight "Rust Crown" was destroyed.

The Plague Crows cruiser "Bonepe" went out of control and crashed into low Earth orbit.

The Disaster Guardian Heavy Cruiser requests to withdraw into the shadow of the Ark Deflector Shield.

The pustules on Guzog's face twitched violently.

If it were just a setback on the ground, he could grit his teeth and bear it.

If it were just the orbit being compressed, he could still gamble on the thick skin of the Ominous Ark.

But now, the ground and the tracks are being slowly crushed by the same thing.

If this continues, forget about getting that damned forging hammer; his ogre scourge fleet will be buried on the Agrippina Plains, eventually being dismantled into ammunition and fertilizer by the Cornerstone Death Knights.

"Cease the attack."

The adjutant was stunned: "Lord?"

"I said, stop the attack."

Gusog turned around, grabbed the rotting tube in the adjutant's chest, and dragged him in front of him.

"All surviving troops, abandon your current positions and prepare to retreat."

The swarm of flies buzzing around the adjutant paused for a moment.

"But... Lord Abaddon's orders..."

Guzog kicked him to the ground.

"I call this a strategic retreat!"

He roared, his face splattering with pus.

"The fact that Lawson's forces were able to perform so well in the defensive battle shows that they rely on pre-built fortifications and underground fire networks! The remaining forces should be withdrawn to the Ark of Doom. As long as we are out of contact with the surface, if Lawson is unwilling to let us go, they will have to send their fleet and those behemoths to launch an offensive."

Gusog was panting heavily, as if he were trying to persuade his adjutant, or perhaps he was trying to persuade himself.

“Once we reach open areas, inside the ark, and into our cabins filled with poison gas, rotting flesh, magic steel nerve plexuses, and plague traps, they won’t be so easy to fight.”

This is indeed the most rational judgment a chaotic warlord could make in a desperate situation.

Preserve the Ark of Ominous Signs.

Preserve the strategic platform.

Save your chance for next time.

"Immediately send the retreat coordinates to the front lines."

Guzogg turned and headed toward the exit. "Call the Ark to lower the tractor beam and the ferry. My personal guard will cover the rear."

He had just entered the retreat order into the Command Thinker.

I haven't had a chance to send it yet.

Inside the calamity fleet, the serpent that had always been hidden in the deepest part stirred.

At the edge of the command center, a high-ranking data sage of the Dark Mechanicus stood quietly.

His outer shell was made perfectly.

A rusted metal spine, three robotic arms, half a face sewn together by cables, and a murky red light flickering in its eye sockets.

Over the past half-day, artillery fire had shattered the two guards beside him, and poison gas had burned through the casing of his secondary processor, yet his heart rate, brain waves, and muscle tremors had not shown a single abnormality.

Because the body inside was not occupied by a Dark Mechanicus Sage.

He is an Alpha Group agent.

Code name: Shadow of Hydra.

He never cared about Guzogg's wins or losses.

They also cared little for the honor of the Nurgle Warband, or for those corrupt sons being beaten to a pulp on the plains.

He is loyal only to the secret orders of the Alpha Legion and the Chaos Warmaster who has a pact with them.

The moment Guzogg entered the retreat order, the tactical logic within the Shadow of Hydra's mind had already reached a conclusion:

The remnants of the Ogre Catastrophe Fleet on the ground have lost their value for breakthrough.

Guzog's so-called "retreating to advance" is essentially an escape.

The chances of the Ominous Ark surviving the pursuit of the Lawson fleet continue to decline.

The key fragment has not yet been obtained.

The conventional approach failed.

Initiate the insurance plan.

He quietly walked toward the deep communication matrix.

The mechanical fingertip of the Hydra Shadow opened, and a miniature decryption chip engraved with Hydra patterns slid out from the finger bone interlayer.

The moment the chip was inserted into the matrix core slot, the entire communication system emitted a very faint moan.

Guzogg's retreat order was frozen one second before it was to be sent.

Subsequently, it was covered.

The shadow of Hydra did not cut off communications across the entire army.

He is more elegant.

He forged Guzog's voice.

That timbre, filled with phlegm, pus, roars, and rotting echoes, was flawlessly replicated by Alpha Legion's voiceprint simulation technology.

The next second, Guzog's roar rang out in the receivers of all the Chaos Warbands on the front lines.

"I am Guzog!"

"Lord Vashtor's ultimate reinforcements are about to arrive!"

"Losen's defenses are already experiencing energy overload!"

"No covering! No formation! Everyone, abandon cover and launch a final assault on the main position of the Third Industrial Fortress!"

"Anyone who dares to back down will have their skin peeled off by me, and their intestines hung on Father's flagpole!"

For a chaotic army that has been driven to the brink of collapse, reason has long since become worthless.

Many people don't even believe the orders; they just need an excuse to keep charging, keep dying, and keep burying their fear in the killing.

And so the green tide boiled again.

"For my loving father!"

"Kill them all!"

"The fortress is about to collapse!"

The remnants of the Sons of Corruption, the landing squads of Plague Crows, the heavily armored squads of the Guardians of Calamity, the traitorous mortals, and the mutated laborers all rose from behind craters, wreckage, and smoke-filled bunkers.

They abandoned the only thing that could save their lives: shelter.

Like a foul-smelling flood, it launched a chaotic, suicidal assault on the main stronghold of the Third Industrial Base.

Inside the command post, Guzog suddenly stopped.

Who gave the order to attack?

He rushed back to the communications station and slammed his heavy hand down on the thinker.

All that remained on the screen was a string of scrolling gibberish.

His access was locked.

Guzog's expression finally changed.

"Alpha, fuck your mother..."

On the other side of the battlefield, Agrippina's firepower had already begun to reap the rewards of the faked general offensive.

Deep within the fortress, the macro-cannon array and plasma turrets opened fire at full power.

The underground fire network rises layer by layer.

The core sequence did not change its rhythm due to the enemy's frenzy; it simply reordered the firing priorities.

Unprotected infantry.