Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"Let's get in line," Er Gou immediately interjected. "Let me try first."

Why do you want to try everything?

"I'm the second oldest! It's my job to examine your bodies!"

"You just want to fight."

"Bullshit! This is a matter of responsibility!"

The remaining guards also came out one after another.

Some inherited Felus Manus's steel body, some gained Chagatai Khan's extraordinary speed, and others merged with Corax's control over the shadows.

Aside from the Lion King, Guilliman, and Saint Gilles, there are no other options for the time being.

Eighteen guards, eighteen Primarch-level bodies.

They are still the second dog, the third dog, and the mastiffs from Mastiff-04 to Mastiff-19.

It was still the same group of rough men who would play cards, fight over meat, and curse each other in front of the Royal Court.

From this day forward, they will have the power to directly confront the gods.

Just then, an encrypted communication came from the Seventh Blackrock Fortress, and the battle report was projected onto Lawson's retina.

Perturabo, Vograem, Kahn...

Familiar names flashed on the screen.

A cold smile curled at the corner of Lawson's mouth.

"Right after you changed bodies, someone came to your door to be your sparring partner."

He turned around and looked at the eighteen moving mountains behind him.

"Let's go, let's play with them."

Chapter 285 The Battle Between Fogrim and the Clones

Inside the command center of the Ironblood, Peturabo stood motionless in front of dozens of crimson light screens.

The fissure outside Blackrock Fortress, forcibly secured by twelve gravity anchors, is constantly shrinking.

The edge of space trembled violently, like a tattered rag torn by a gale, and this meticulously planned siege was sliding into an abyss of chaos.

He hadn't felt such intense anger in a long time.

The last time I had this feeling was during the siege ten thousand years ago.

At that time, he was in charge of breaking through the Imperial Palace's defenses, while Horus went mad in the rear, Forgrim was only concerned with pursuing the so-called perfect killing, Angron was like a wild beast that had broken free of all chains, rampaging everywhere, and even Mortarion was immersed in his own gloom.

Everyone wanted to enjoy the fruits of victory, but no one was willing to follow the plan and do what they were supposed to do.

Ten thousand years have passed!

The result was no different; he was still surrounded by a group of fools controlled by desire and anger.

"Dispatch the Fourth Engineer Group."

Peturabo forcibly suppressed his anger. "Have them take the spare stabilizers and enter through the second passage to recalibrate the gravitational field."

An officer of the Iron Warriors reported with a heavy heart: "Lord of Iron, the second passage has been occupied by the World Eaters. Kahn is advancing into the fortress and is refusing to respond to any communications."

"Then we'll go over their corpses."

From the other end of the bridge came Abaddon's gloating laughter: "It seems your so-called correct war isn't as correct as you think."

Perturabo's gaze pierced Abaddon like a tangible object: "If it weren't for your arrogance, Fogrim's conceit, and the out-of-control behavior of that mad dog Kahn, my plan would have been flawless!"

Abaddon's smile vanished, replaced by an offended gloom.

"If your plan cannot accommodate any unexpected events on the battlefield, then it does not deserve to be called a plan; it is just a piece of waste paper filled with numbers."

Peturabo was too lazy to argue any further; it was pointless.

These idiots will never understand the beauty of pure mathematics and logic.

The only thing we can do now is to keep filling the hole that those idiots tore open with troops and forcibly pull this war back from the brink of collapse.

Inside the Seventh Blackrock Fortress.

Kahn led the remaining four hundred-odd World Eaters and smashed open a heavy gate.

Behind the door was a magnificent oval hall, with a black metal floor that gently sloped downwards, forming an open arena.

There were only three hundred people at the other end of the hall.

They were clad in dark gold power armor, gripping various melee weapons, and waited silently.

Kahn and the World Eaters behind him also miraculously fell silent.

Immediately afterwards, a thunderous laugh erupted from deep within Kahn's throat.

"Hahaha... Hahahaha! Finally, something decent has arrived!"

He raised the Blood God Child high and roared, "Crush them!!!"

"For the Blood God! For the Skull Throne!"

The moment the two collided, the Devourer's ferocious charge, powerful enough to crush city walls, was like hitting an oncoming mountain of steel.

A berserker raised his chainsaw axe and brought it down on the head of the front-line combatant.

The opponent shifted half a step to the side, the heavy axe blade grazing his breastplate, sending sparks flying.

In that instant, the two combat units on his left and right had already closed in on either side of his body.

laugh!

The power sword pierced through the gap in the rib armor, penetrating the second heart and lung lobe.

On the other side, the power tomahawk swung horizontally, its heavy blade slicing through the waist armor and spine.

The Devourer's body was torn in two by two opposing forces.

Warm blood and internal organs splashed backward.

The berserkers behind him stepped over his still convulsing, mangled body and continued forward.

More weapons clashed together.

A World Eater chainsaw sword was clamped tightly onto the deflector shield in the battle sequence, its serrated teeth spinning wildly and emitting a piercing shriek.

The shield-wielding warrior deflected the force backward, causing his body to sink.

Another combatant leaped onto his shoulder, his power hammer tracing an arc in the air as he swung it horizontally.

boom!

The berserker's helmet, along with the head inside, vanished instantly, leaving only a hole above his shoulders from which a fountain of blood gushed forth.

A being over three meters tall crashed into the three, attempting to break the formation with brute force.

The three combatants switched tactics in an instant: one parried his weapon with the hilt of his sword, one ducked down and severed his knee joint, and the last one thrust his power sword into his visor from the front.

The sword pierced through the back of his head, bringing with it a stream of white brain matter.

A combat order soldier ducked to avoid a sweeping axe blade. His comrade behind him stepped onto his shoulder armor, leaped over him, gripped his power sword tightly, and stood like a steel nail driven into the air.

The sword pierced through the weak point of the World Eater's collarbone, traveled downwards, broke through the sternum and abdominal cavity, and finally emerged from the pelvis.

When the body landed, it had already been neatly cut open longitudinally.

Blood quickly filled the hall, forming a thick, red lake.

The battle cries of the World Eaters grew increasingly frenzied, yet their numbers were decreasing at a visible rate.

From the very beginning, Kahn had his eyes on two people in the battle formation.

The two men had no special markings, and their armor and weapons were no different from those of the others.

The swarm network had already completed target allocation, and the entire World Eater commando team consisted of 298 people.

The traitor Kahn only needs two people.

"Come!"

Kahn let out a beastly roar, and the Blood God Child swept out, bringing with it a bloody stench.

The sword-wielding combat formation met them head-on.

boom!

Kahn slid back several meters, his boots carving two deep furrows in the alloy floor.

Before he could regain his footing, another combatant wielding a battle axe appeared beside him, the power axe crashing down with the force of thunder.

Kahn roared and raised the Blood God Child to block.

Bang!

The two weapons, each imbued with terrifying power, collided violently, producing a deafening roar.

Kahn's arms slammed down, the alloy floor beneath his feet caved in, and his knees were almost forced to their knees by the sheer force of his physical strength.

He stared wide-eyed in disbelief; the other person had actually overpowered him in terms of strength!

Another swordsman approached from the side.

Kahn whirled the axe handle, deflecting the opponent's weapon, and then swung it horizontally.

The swordsman leaned back, his body bent at an incredible angle, the serrated edges of his chainsaw whistling past his visor.

Just as Kahn was about to give chase, a terrifying impact came from his back midfield.

The axe-wielding warrior kicked him in the lumbar spine.

Kahn was sent flying forward, crashing heavily into the ground. His power armor rubbed against the black alloy, leaving a trail of sparks several meters long.

He had just propped himself up when one of his combat boots slammed down on the handle of the Blood God's axe.

Kahn strained with both hands, trying to wrest the weapon back, but the foot seemed rooted to the spot and wouldn't budge.

The sword-wielding warrior walked towards them from the front.

Kahn abandoned his weapon, leaped to his feet, and punched the opponent's faceplate.