Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The longsword in Mastiff-05's hand was already pressed against his right arm.

The sword tip pressed down.

The tendons in Fugrim's wrist were severed, and the longsword fell to the ground.

Fugrim caught the hilt of the sword with his left hand before it completely fell.

This was a change he had prepared for long ago.

The sword thrust backward from below, aiming straight for the heart of the Mastiff-05, with extreme speed.

The lion king's gaze sharpened at that moment.

This sword strike was almost impossible to dodge.

Mastiff-05, however, seemed to have foreseen this all along.

He turned his body, allowing the sword to pierce through his right chest cavity.

The long sword pierced through the lung lobe and emerged from the back.

Foghrim's left arm was fully extended, and his attack range had reached its limit.

Mastiff-05 continued forward along the blade that had pierced its own body.

Fresh blood gushed from the wounds on his chest and back.

He stepped into Forgrim's arms.

Fugrim wanted to abandon his sword and retreat.

Mastiff-05's left hand had already gripped his wrist.

He thrust his longsword forward, close to his ribs.

puff!

The sword pierced through Fogrim's abdomen and emerged from his lower back.

Their bodies were almost touching.

Foghrim raised his knee and rammed it into Mastiff-05's abdomen, and Mastiff-05 raised its knee in return.

The two legs collided in the cramped space, and the bones made a dull thud.

Mastiff-05 took a half step back.

However, Fugrim's right leg bent unnaturally.

His knee joint was shattered.

Mastiff-05 draws its sword.

Blood gushed from the wound in Foghrim's abdomen.

He tried to stand on his remaining left leg.

The Mastiff-05's sword fell again, and Fugrim raised his left arm to block it. His forearm was severed in the middle, and the severed hand flew into the air.

Fugrim finally knelt down on one knee.

Her long, silvery-white hair fell down, obscuring half of her face.

Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

His right hand had lost its grip strength, his left arm had been severed, and one leg could no longer support his body.

Mastiff-05 stood in front of him.

Fugrim's longsword was still embedded in his chest, and blood dripped continuously down the blade.

Fugrim couldn't understand.

During the Great Expedition, he defeated countless sword masters.

Even if he fell into chaos, even if he had four arms and a demonic body, his greatest pride was still his swordsmanship.

Now, he has lost the demonic blessing, but the other party is also not using psionic powers.

They have similar bodies. They use the same weapons.

This was supposed to be a duel to prove who was more perfect, but he lost.

"why?"

Mastiff-05 raised its longsword: "Because you're old."

The longsword slashed horizontally.

Forgrim's head was severed from his neck.

The face that was once called the most perfect in the empire spun into the air, its long silver hair spreading out, before crashing heavily onto the black ground.

When Forgrim's head hit the ground.

The Blackrock Suppression Field pinned Forgrim's Primarch soul firmly to reality, and the Swarm Network immediately covered it.

Ten thousand years of memories unfolded with a bang.

The glory of the Great Crusade, the adoration of the Third Legion, the whispers first heard in the Temple of Ral.

After the fall, there was endless feasting, praise, torture, and sensory stimulation.

Swarm intelligence has no interest in appreciating this garbage.

Hundreds of millions of meaningless memories were directly marked and deleted, while the mental pollution left by Slaanesh was separately packaged.

In the end, only Fugrim's swordsmanship remained.

From the first time he held a sword as a boy, to his clash with the alien sword master during the Great Expedition, and all the skills he honed over ten thousand years.

These experiences are broken down into the most basic action units by the swarm network.

Duplicate parts are merged, and failed changes are deleted.

Actions that prioritize visual appeal over effectiveness have all been revised.

Forgrim spent his life pursuing swordsmanship, but after his death, the part of Forgrim that belonged to him was finally removed by the swarm mentality.

All that's left is the skill of killing.

Mastiff-05 stood in the passageway, a massive amount of data flooding into its consciousness.

Many questions that arose during the battle were instantly answered.

Why did Forgrim change the angle of the sword at that moment?

Why does the attack appear from the right side even though the center of gravity has shifted to the left?

Why are some seemingly unnecessary moves able to force the opponent into a corner after three rounds?

The next moment, the compiled swordsmanship data spread outward along the swarm network.

Countless warriors fighting in different star sectors changed their sword-wielding posture at the same instant.

Vograim's swordsmanship, honed over ten thousand years, was transformed into standard combat data for the Empire's dark side army in less than a minute.

Inside the command center, Lawson looked at the tactical star map again.

The Black Legion assault team that Abaddon had deployed in advance, the Iron Warriors' engineering corps, and the World Eaters who followed Kahn into the fortress were still scattered throughout the various passageways.

They have lost unified command.

These Chaos Warriors are trapped in ever-changing geometric passages, unable to regroup or determine their retreat direction.

"Let's clean up the trash," Lawson said calmly.

The order was relayed throughout the fortress via the swarm network.

The passageways that were originally hidden in the walls, underground structures, and folded spaces were opened simultaneously.

A large number of combat sequences flooded the battlefield.

A Black Legion Terminator squad was retreating along the original route when the company commander at the front suddenly realized that the passage behind him had disappeared.

The wall in front of them then opened, and twenty combatants emerged, swords in hand.

In another passage, the Iron Warriors engineering team was protecting the anchor piles during their evacuation.

They quickly erected a shield wall and blocked the road with heavy weapons, but the wall did not open from the front.

The battle formation appeared directly beneath their feet.

The black stone floor split open, and dozens of hands grabbed the legs of the Iron Warrior, dragging the outermost warrior underground.

The power armor rubbed violently against the edge of the ground.

The steel warrior being dragged away only had time to let out half a roar before its body disappeared into the gap.

Immediately afterwards, a series of cutting sounds came from beneath my feet.

Fresh blood seeped upwards from the seams in the floor.

Both walls opened simultaneously.

The battle formation attacked from three directions, cutting this disciplined engineering unit into several segments.

One by one, the enemy markers inside Blackrock Fortress went out.

The breach that the Chaos Legion opened at a great cost ultimately became nothing more than a mouth that devoured the invaders.

On the Ironblood, Peturabo stared intently at the deteriorating battlefield data.

Only four of the six space stabilizers remained, the anchor pile transport team was wiped out, and the landing craft that the Black Legion had deployed without authorization blocked the originally planned attack route.

Vograim has lost contact, and Kahn's life signal has also gone out; all variables are deviating from the calculated results.

Peturabo's hands moved rapidly across the light screen.

“Abandon the main gap.”

"Activate the seventh and ninth nodes of the Steel Crown."

"Concentrate the remaining energy of the gravity anchor into the left region and recreate a small channel."

"Let the Fifth Engineer Group..."

He suddenly stopped. On the tactical screen, the numerous markers that originally represented the main fleet of the Black Legion were rapidly retreating.