Warhammer: Empire Reboot

On the last bend before the finish line, the pilot of "Crimson Lightning" made a daring drift.

The massive vehicle swung almost sideways around the bend, pushing one of the "Hurricane" motorcycles toward the outer rock face.

boom!

The "Hurricane" steered into the rock face and exploded into a fireball.

Another combat pilot, seemingly enraged by his comrade's death, abandoned long-range firing and accelerated to ram into the enemy from the side.

However, his movements appeared somewhat clumsy, releasing the water silently.

Suddenly, more than a dozen spears strapped with explosives popped out from the side of the "Crimson Lightning," like the quills of a porcupine.

The Hurricane cavalry crashed into it head-on, resulting in another loud bang.

The "Crimson Lightning" burst out of the thick smoke and was the first to cross the finish line.

The entire track fell into a deathly silence for a few seconds.

Then, a tsunami-like roar erupted from the throats of all the orc spectators.

There really were orcs who defeated those invincible "shrimp"!

The orc driver, who was blind in one eye, was dragged out of the cockpit by his companions and lifted high above their heads.

On the mechanical counter, its name and portrait were enlarged, and below it were written in the most savage orcish symbols—

"Fastest today!"

Crates of teeth, brand-new engine parts, and several barrels of high-purity Gigabase fuel were pushed in front of it by the Cornerstone Sequence.

Its name was also broadcast throughout Armageddon.

Not only that, but the giant screen was continuously playing footage of the Orc veteran driver winning the championship!

Countless orcs are fanatical about it!

They want to be the next one!

The same scene is playing out in other war zones.

In the meat grinder maze, a squad composed of members of the Goff clan, after suffering 70% casualties, relied on the tactic of piling up corpses to form a meat wall, exhausted the ammunition of a combat-order squad, and finally tore those few "shrimp" to pieces with axes and fangs.

The surviving three-headed orcs not only divided up all the equipment of the fallen, but their tribe's ranking also jumped from several hundredths to the top ten.

Amidst the ruins of the gunfight, a Bloodaxe clan "sharpshooter" used a ricocheting bullet, calculated for its trajectory, to pierce the visor of a Keystone Combat Suit pilot.

It became the only orc to survive the battlefield that day.

Swarm intelligence operates from behind the scenes, manipulating everything from a bird's-eye view of the entire battlefield.

It calculates the win rate for each battle.

After tens of thousands of simulations, it will deliberately insert some inconspicuous "mistakes" into the battle sequence in some rounds.

These "mistakes" were minor and real, and no orc could detect that they were deliberately letting the opponent win.

They will only think that it is because they are powerful enough, lucky enough, and able to seize the fleeting opportunity.

These fruits of victory are honey with deadly poison.

The victor's story will be widely publicized.

Their portraits are printed at the entrance to the blood pit, their used weapons are displayed as trophies, and their names become objects of worship for countless orc boys.

Fame, teeth, power, and the right to challenge the stronger.

This system completely ignited the orcs' primal desires.

The losers died without a complete corpse, becoming fertilizer for the farm.

The victor rises to the top and becomes a hero admired by all.

This contrast drove the orcs completely mad.

They no longer only pursue the joy of fighting, but also begin to chase that unique glory.

Countless orcs crowded at the registration points on various battlefields, fighting fiercely for a single spot to participate in the war.

Those "champions" who excel in the initial battleground will receive a special admission ticket.

Tickets to the heart of Armageddon's stage.

In the heart of all the war zones, Lawson built a championship arena.

This arena was converted from the wreckage of an Imperial-class battleship, and its foundation is larger than that of an ordinary hive city.

Only orc chieftains who have achieved at least ten victories in their respective war zones are eligible to enter here.

On the arena's debut day, one hundred orc champions who had fought their way through various battlefields gathered in the rest area.

Among them are a racing king who has won three times on the Death Track, a berserker who single-handedly slaughtered thirty of his kind in the Meat Grinder, and a beast who bit a combat-ranked individual to death with his teeth in a blood pit.

Each of them was a battle-hardened warrior, a legend in the eyes of the orcs.

Today, they will face the toughest "hard-to-crack shrimp".

In the arena, a holographic projection lit up, and a lottery wheel began to spin.

On the roulette wheel are eighteen blurry human figures.

In the command center, Er Gou, a cigar dangling from his lips, stared at the roulette wheel and muttered curses:

"Damn it, why is my picture put first? Anyone who didn't know better would think I won the lottery."

The roulette wheel slowly came to a stop.

A figure exuding an aura of oppression was chosen.

Mastiff-08, Angron template.

The arena's elevator platform slowly rose.

Mastiff-08, shirtless and wearing only tactical trousers, walked out step by step.

He wasn't carrying any weapons; he simply stretched his limbs on the spot, and his entire body tensed up.

Who wants to go first?

The largest of the Gough orc warriors roared and charged out first.

Its body was covered in scars and crude mechanical implants, and it wielded a huge battle axe made from a modified Lehman Rustank cannon barrel.

It leaped high into the air, and its battle axe came crashing down.

With its five fingers spread wide, Mastiff-08 steadily caught the battle axe that was powerful enough to smash open the fortress gate.

Click!

He twisted the axe handle, which was made from a tank cannon barrel, into a contorted rope.

Then, he took a step forward.

His left fist slammed into the orc general's chest without any fancy moves.

Boom!

A deafening roar, like a battering ram striking a city gate.

The orc general's heavy breastplate, along with his ribs and heart, was punched through.

A gaping hole appeared in its chest.

The body fell to the ground!

Mastiff-08 shook the blood off his hands and glanced at the remaining orc champions again.

"Come here to die!"

"Awoo!"

Inside the command center, Arek stared at the scene on the screen, remaining silent for a long time.

Calgary had been standing in front of another light screen for a full half hour.

Finally, he muttered a curse word that was unbecoming of Astartes.

Arek did not laugh at him.

The old political commissar muttered to himself, "I've tried everything, but I can only keep them outside the defense line, burn their mushrooms, blow up their tanks, and execute their prisoners of war... But they always come back, in greater numbers and with even more ferocity."

"But now..."

He pointed to the light screen: "Do you see that, Lord of Macragge? Orcs are lining up to enter the arena and die."

"I saw."

Calgary picked up a glass of wine and drank it all in one gulp.

"This is something only the Lord of the Seal can do. No one else could possibly accomplish such a feat, not even... not even an emperor."

Arreek wholeheartedly agreed.

He respected the emperor more than anyone else, but at this moment he had to admit a fact.

The Emperor was great; he could wipe Ulanor from the Milky Way with his thunderous wrath and crush the Orc Empire with his unparalleled power.

It is probably impossible to get these chaotic and savage creatures to fight according to his will.

Ironically, this man who held the reins of the empire's dark side succeeded.

He did not try to eradicate the orcs' nature, but rather utilized it, amplified it, and ultimately tamed it.

The old political commissar could only sigh, "The Emperor may win the war against the orcs, but only the Seal Bearer can set the rules for this war."

…………

The green tide of Armageddon continues to gather, and the empire's dark side is expanding at an accelerated pace.

The speed has increased by more than just a little bit.

This acceleration wasn't because Lawson had deployed more combat units to the front lines.

What truly changed the course of the war was the Eldar's web-based system.

As the major Ark worlds acknowledged Lawson's status, the network channels that had been closed for thousands or even tens of thousands of years were reopened.

Those Webgates hidden in desolate planets, abandoned cities, and ancient ruins were relocated by Eldar prophets and then reinforced by the Imperium's dark side engineering sequence.