Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The first horizontal slash sliced ​​across the neck of the first orc, sending its head flying.

The body remained in a squatting position, and a thick, dark green jet of blood spurted from the severed neck.

The second strike was a reverse slash, cutting into the shoulder of the second orc and then diagonally down to the opposite side of his waist, causing his upper body to slide off his torso.

In less than a second, two orc boys appeared.

The camp didn't really react until a second later.

"WAAAGH!"

Dozens of orc boys sprang up from their positions, grabbed their weapons, and charged toward Lawson.

Three White Tiger Armored Machines filed in from behind Lawson.

One of the Normans in the north tent was awakened.

The moment it burst out of the tent, it collided head-on with Lawson.

"Big guy! You're huge! I want your shiny shell!"

It raised its power machete and swung it down with all its might toward Lawson's head.

The force of this strike was enough to cleave a crack in the front armor of an Imperial Chimera armored vehicle.

The power machete struck the armor on the left forearm of the power armor.

Even a full-force strike at the level of Norbert only caused Lawson's forearm to tremble slightly.

Lawson gripped the blade of the machete in reverse.

Norber tried to pull the machete back, but couldn't.

Lawson had already completed the stabbing motion.

The blade pierced through the heavy armor, chest cavity, and spine, extending twenty centimeters from the back.

Norbert glanced down at the blade protruding from his chest.

"Holy shit!"

The first Norman fell.

After witnessing its companion being killed instantly, the second Norber made a choice that surprised everyone: it turned and ran away.

Its brain completed a rare calculation in half a second: "I can't beat this big guy. I'll run out and find more brothers to fight together."

It ran three steps.

Then they were stopped by two platoon leaders who rushed in from the east entrance.

Two power swords simultaneously pierced its waist from both sides.

The battle lasted less than four minutes.

The Shattered Iron Tribe was completely wiped out, while the White Tiger Armor suffered no casualties.

After the battle, ordinary assassins poured in from the south exit and began to gather the panicked mobsters.

Within 48 hours, all three cleaning task forces completed their missions.

The Broken Iron Tribe gathered about three hundred fart spirits.

The proportion of parasites from the remnants of poisonous mushrooms was unusually high, approximately six hundred.

The Rusty Nail Tribe gathered about four hundred fart spirits.

In three raids, White Tiger Armor suffered zero casualties.

The number of ordinary suicide soldiers lost was less than thirty, and all of them were replaced with life points.

There was no other possible reinforcement force within a 20-kilometer radius of the target tribe.

Over the next week, Lawson swept through several small herds of stray animals he encountered along the way.

The total number of fart spirits collected reached 3,600.

Among them are about four hundred skilled workers, these individuals with weak mechanical intuition are key to maintaining the operation of the frigate.

Little Wrench displayed a management style that could be described as dictatorial in front of his fellow tribesmen.

Having evolved under Waaagh's energy feed, it is larger and smarter than any ordinary fart spirit.

More than three thousand farts behaved as obediently as a group of trained mice in front of it.

Lawson allocated a batch of Waaagh scrap to Little Wrench, instructing it to distribute it according to its work, with the well-behaved fart spirit receiving a small portion.

This simple and crude incentive mechanism works satisfactorily among the sycophantic group.

Meanwhile, the results of the search by the backup spacecraft were also being transmitted back one after another.

The reconnaissance team on the north flank discovered the wreckage of two Imperial transport ships. One was completely flattened between two fused deck sections, making it impossible to even enter the cabins. The other ship's hull structure was still intact, but its engine room had been infested with a group of gene-stealers. Clearing them out would mean starting a new nest defense battle, which was simply not feasible given the time constraints.

The western reconnaissance team discovered an orc assault boat, but it didn't even have a grapple shield and could only travel at sub-light speed in real space.

The reconnaissance team on the lower deck found nothing.

However, during the search, a large maintenance passageway leading directly from deck 120 to the wrecked ship's hull was unexpectedly discovered. This information was marked as high-priority backup data by the swarm intelligence.

After summarizing the conclusions from the three lines, Lawson shut down the backup spacecraft search mission.

The target frigate is the only option.

There is no Plan B.

This conclusion actually calmed Lawson down. With all other options eliminated, there was no need to hesitate about the remaining path.

Battle reports from the deep deck direction were equally frequent.

The meat grinder was not turned off.

The intensity of the three-way battle intensified with the continued fueling of the deep-seated killing spree.

Gorga's army was firmly pinned down in the deep mud of the deck, unable to look north.

It's time to take the final step.

"Seize the ship!"

P.S.: Brothers, the newbie village map is about to end. We're about to crash into the lawless dark side of the empire, plundering resources, territory, and girls. The Dark Regent is coming!

Please read on, please vote!

Chapter 80 The Great Evacuation of the Destroyer Ship

Wearing Tiger King-level power armor, Lawson stood two hundred meters outside the target orc tribe's camp.

Fifteen White Tiger powered armored vehicles were lined up in two columns behind him.

A strike force of 8,600 suicide soldiers was further behind.

Behind them were 3,600 fart spirits escorted by assassins. They were divided into groups, each guarded by five assassins.

Before setting off, Lawson gave each of them a small clump of Waaagh scrap.

Now these three thousand-plus fart-mongers are like three thousand little green bombs soaked in stimulants, whispering and fidgeting in the dark.

"Swarm intelligence: confirm that all units are in place."

[Confirmed, all in position.]

[Outpost Blockade: All six outpost access routes have been destroyed. All twelve remaining elite soldiers are online. The armory's spatial link is normal.]

[Outer perimeter alert: Twelve White Tiger Armor units have been deployed to the four directions of the camp, forming a 10-kilometer perimeter. No abnormal movement is currently observed.]

[Evacuation routes: Six engineering teams have entered the six pre-designated routes, with 40% clearing progress and 30% explosives pre-planting progress. All work is expected to be completed before the raid ends.]

[Deep echelon: 18 White Tiger Armor units and 1200 elite soldiers, continue operating the meat grinder, ready to be deployed.]

Everything is ready.

Lawson's gaze pierced through two hundred meters of darkness, locking onto the orc camp and the hazy outline of the 1.6-kilometer-long Imperial Sword-class corvette in the shed.

"White Tiger Team, follow me!"

Sixteen powered armored vehicles rolled in from the main entrance on the north side of the camp.

The army of suicide soldiers poured in simultaneously from the east, west, and south.

The swarm intelligence system has transformed nearly 10,000 people and sixteen powered armored vehicles into a sophisticated killing machine.

Crossfire, grenade barrage, close-quarters combat.

The two orc leaders in the camp were shredded by the White Tiger Squad before they could even finish a complete Waaagh battle cry.

Two highly skilled fighters attempted to rush towards the frigate's engine room, presumably to activate some weapon system, but were caught up by Lawson and killed one of them with a single strike.

The gunshots and shouts fell silent.

The ground of the camp was covered with orc corpses.

Dark green blood pooled into streams on the metal floor.

In these ruins, a 1.6-kilometer-long Imperial Sword-class corvette rests quietly on the deck of a super-large hangar that once belonged to an Imperial battleship.

This hangar deck is the reason why the frigate can be moored inside the wrecked ship.

The original space was large enough to accommodate a Sword-class ship, but the collision and fusion of the wrecked ship in the subspace tore open a large structural crack above the hangar, running straight to the wrecked ship's hull.

The orcs used this place as a natural dock.

Lawson used the crack as a runway.

Wearing power armor, Lawson walked onto the gangplank and personally entered the frigate.

The scene inside the ship was even more shocking than Little Wrench described.

The Imperial Standard Corridor was a mess, the navigation signs on the walls were replaced with graffiti drawn with orc blood, and the ground was covered with oil stains, mushroom spores and unidentified organic matter.

"Farting devil enters the ship."

Three thousand six hundred fart demons, driven by the suicide soldiers, filed into the frigate.

Under the command of Little Wrench, the skilled workers were assigned to key positions: engine room, power pipeline, ventilation system, and damage control points.

The ordinary farts were stuffed into every corner of the ship.