Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"All squads report casualties! Squad 1 is unharmed! 300 ordinary suicide soldiers have minor wounds, 42 have serious wounds, and no casualties!"

In the swarm network, battle damage information was aggregated in Lawson's brain.

The suicide squad members' formidable physique, comparable to that of the Astartes, combined with the protection of the safe cabin, miraculously allowed them to retain the vast majority of their combat effectiveness during this plane crash catastrophe.

Lawson sat in the cushioned seat and took a deep breath. He pressed a control hub on his breastplate, disengaging the heavy safety locking device.

He stood up, and the living metal on the Tiger King power armor flowed like mercury, quickly repairing the slight metal fatigue caused by the vibration.

His lips curled into an extremely cruel smile.

Although the impact destroyed the Greenskins' central army and warlords, there are still at least tens of millions of Greenskins scattered across other hives and wastelands on this planet.

Now, the real hunt has only just begun.

"The game is over. Now, it's time to clean up the battlefield."

Lawson's thoughts, transmitted through swarm intelligence, exploded like thunder in the minds of every assassin.

"Everyone, exit the capsule and fight!"

With a hissing sound of pressure release, the two-meter-thick adamantite blast-proof door on the frigate's belly was slowly pushed open by a hydraulic device, and then slammed heavily onto the ground outside, which was covered with green flesh and mud, forming a wide metal ramp.

tread!tread!tread!

More than 1,500 fully armed suicide soldiers, wearing reinforced bulletproof armor and carrying heavy explosive guns, multi-barreled rapid-fire cannons and molten guns, surged out of the warship like a black tide.

As soon as they stepped out of the hatch, they quickly deployed an extremely tight circular defensive perimeter, centered on the wreckage of the warship.

But Lawson's forces were far more than that.

Lawson strode out of the hatch and onto the top armor of the warship.

He surveyed the hellish scene around him, sneered, and raised his right hand.

"White Tiger Team, return to your positions!"

hum!

Inside the warship's safe cabin, a static force field portal suddenly opened!

The army of suicide soldiers, who had been transferred from the wrecked spaceships through the armory node, has crossed light-years and spatial barriers and arrived!

"Our loyalty is unwavering, even unto death!"

Eight thousand elite soldiers, armed to the teeth, were first transferred to the safe cabin, and then marched out of the cabin in a column!

Upon their arrival, they seamlessly joined forces with the more than 1,500 suicide soldiers who had previously exited the cabin, completing a tactical encirclement.

In just one minute, nearly ten thousand suicide soldiers gathered in the center of this death rift, forming a steel army exuding terrifying killing intent.

at the same time.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Accompanied by heavy footsteps that could crush rocks, forty-five tall, robust Astartes-class power armored vehicles, painted in white with black stripes, roared into formation behind Lawson from inside the ship's cabin and from the static force field!

With the Tiger King armor on Lawson's body, all forty-six units were present!

This White Tiger team, driven by swarm intelligence and living metal, has become so powerful after being baptized in the fires of a space wreck that it can drive an ordinary person to the brink of mental collapse at a glance.

Apart from the twelve assassins whom Lawson deliberately left on the wrecked spaceship to serve as a space anchor, the entire army under Lawson's command arrived at the battlefield on Planet Obulus at this moment!

Lawson stood on the broken communication antenna at the highest point of the warship, the wind whipping the crimson cloak on his power armor.

He opened the system panel and glanced at the earnings settlement that had been blocked earlier because he found it too noisy.

That was the final kill reward calculated by the system after the warship glided and crushed the ancient giant machine.

[Current Life Points Reserves: 4,875,600!]

More than 4.8 million!

This enormous and dizzying wealth was enough to give him absolute confidence in this perilous world of the empire.

"Resources, the later the game goes, the more terrifying the snowball effect becomes. Now that we have the capital, let's go all out." A hint of madness flashed in Lawson's eyes.

In this Warhammer universe, military strength is everything.

Especially when facing a race like the Greenskins, whose numbers are often in the tens or hundreds of millions, ten thousand elite warriors, though well-trained, still seem somewhat inadequate in the face of the vast Greenskin sea.

But right now, what he has in abundance is soldiers.

"Exchange for 15,000 [platoon leader level] assassins!"

Lawson squandered most of his life points.

[Consuming 450 million Life Points and 45000 cubic meters of Steel! Exchange for 15000 Platoon Leader-level Death Soldier!]

Platoon leader-level assassins! These are terrifying beings whose genes have been tripled, and whose individual combat skills are equivalent to those of an unarmored Astartes combat brother!

Swish swish swish swish!

On the open ground within a radius of several kilometers around the wreckage of the warship, as if divine soldiers had descended from the sky, 15,000 burly figures, each over two meters tall and with muscles as bulging as rocks, instantly materialized in the white light of the system!

At this point, the total number of assassins under Lawson's command had surged to 25,000!

Fifteen thousand nine hundred of them were terrifying platoon leaders!

"but……"

Lawson glanced at the newly manifested army and frowned slightly.

The standard-issue explosive guns and heavy weapons he had previously scavenged from the arsenal on the space wreck and the Chaos outpost were almost depleted after arming the initial 10,000 suicide soldiers.

The current armory, besides the mountains of ammunition, no longer has enough for an extra 15,000 standard firearms.

"No guns?" With a thought, Lawson opened the armory space.

Chainsaw swords, high-frequency vibration power knives, and heavy armor-piercing battle axes stockpiled inside the space wreckage were transferred in batches to the [Arsenal].

These are all pure cold weapons, seized from countless dead greens or their strongholds in a wrecked spaceship, and then purified and repaired by the system's maintenance team.

The assassins, who had no ranged weapons, each reached into the armory and took out their weapons.

"Guns and cannons are for suppressing fire; melee weapons are the true romance of a man." Lawson's voice echoed in the swarm network.

"New recruits! Pick up your swords! Use your muscles and strength to teach those greenskins what real close-quarters combat is all about!"

"Yes, Commander!"

The moment they gripped their weapons, the terrifying power equivalent to Astartes made these melee weapons hum with a thirst for blood.

"All troops, listen to my command!"

Lawson drew the master-level power sword from his waist, the one that had slain the Chaos Commander, its blade pointing directly at the distant Greenskin outer army, which had been briefly thrown into chaos by the warlord's death but was now being driven by instinct to regroup.

"Unrestricted combat! Free fire!"

"Primary objective: Focus on eliminating the orc leader and all high-ranking greenskins with leader-like characteristics! Disrupt their organization!"

"Let this meat grinder start turning!"

At Lawson's command, 25,000 suicide soldiers, like a black and gray torrent of death steel, broke away from the defensive positions of the warship wreckage and launched an extremely fierce counterattack against the endless green-skinned army in all directions!

At this moment, what is truly terrifying is not their terrifying individual soldier quality, but the swarm mentality that, with the surge in numbers, has elevated computing power to a new level!

On the battlefield, this manifests as a chilling, artful tactical coordination.

The terrifying three-on-three battle formation began to operate once again in an advanced form.

The front line of the battlefield.

A group of several thousand orc boys, brandishing machetes and howling, charged toward an oncoming melee squad of thirty platoon-level assassins.

On the original battlefield of the Lower Nest, a group of orc lads could tear hundreds of planetary defense soldiers to shreds with just one charge.

Even mortals wielding laser guns would tremble and crumble before the Greenskin's terrifying size and savage power.

But now, they are facing platoon leader-level assassins.

hum!hum!hum!

Thirty chainsaw swords simultaneously drew to their full power, unleashing a bloodthirsty roar.

The assassins didn't slow down at all. They fought in small triangular units of three, maintaining an absolute and precise distance of 2.5 meters between each other, like a meat grinder's blade array, crashing headlong into the orc horde.

A young orc roared and swung his rusty battle axe, weighing dozens of kilograms, at a death knight standing directly in front of him. From the orc's perspective, the human had no chance of dodging this fatal blow.

But just 0.01 seconds before the tomahawk was about to strike!

The assassin's body deflected to the left by a mere five centimeters in a manner that defied the most basic human skeletal structure, and the battle axe cleaved down just past his nose, slamming heavily onto the ground.

At that same instant, 0.01 seconds later, another assassin, positioned to his left rear and forming the left flank of the triangle, thrust out his power blade like a viper's tongue!

puff!

The powered longsword pierced precisely into the vulnerable ribs under the armpit of the orc boy as he raised his arm, the high-frequency vibrating blade instantly shattering the greenskin's heart before exiting through his back.

The assassin didn't even glance at the fallen orc. He immediately drew his sword, turned around, and used the hilt of his sword to parry another orc's iron rod that swept in from the side.

At that moment, the third assassin in the triangle leaped up, using the momentum of his fall to cleave the blocked orc in two from head to toe with his chainsaw sword!

Luring, killing, patching up leaks, counterattacking.

All of this happened in less than half a second!

The three of them, like conjoined twins with the same brain, worked together seamlessly.

There were more than 8,000 such triangular units on the entire battlefield!

They nested and covered each other, forming a massive, ever-rotating and expanding meat grinder formation.

The strong orc boy, who was invincible in front of the planetary defense forces and seemed like a god of war descended to earth, was as fragile as roadside weeds in front of these platoon leader-level assassins who possessed Astartes-level physical abilities and were uniformly commanded by the swarm mind.

The blade flashed, and blood and flesh flew everywhere.

Often, before the orc could even draw his sword, his wrist had already been severed.

Before the orc could even pull the trigger, his kneecap was shattered by a kick, and he was then beheaded with a sword.

It's just a matter of one cut!

But it is this one difference that demonstrates a tactical crushing defeat, like a dimensional reduction attack!

The assassins advanced through the orc horde at breakneck speed, leaving behind only a trail of mangled flesh and severed limbs.

On the vast battlefield, the most conspicuous and terrifying thing is still the forty-six White Tiger battle teams that gallop like demons!