Forced to die just after becoming invincible in Warhammer?

As soon as he said it, he felt a little regretful. He felt the atmosphere solidify instantly, as if there was an invisible force that made the air sticky and suffocating.

Those war dogs seemed to have their spines pulled out. Their once fanatical eyes dimmed, and their aura became weak. They felt as if they had been sentenced to death and were in great pain.

Angron paused, then continued, "I have heard of your deeds from others: the Emperor's loyal dogs, the fanatical killing legion... These titles don't sound very impressive, and I don't like them at all. But from now on, you will be my World Eaters! Be fearless, and look down upon the world! Starting from Nuceria, we will spread the seeds of resistance, justice, and order to every planet, and let the beautiful light of humanity illuminate every corner of the universe!"

The war dogs slowly raised their heads, their gazes fixed on Angron, their eyes filled with awe and respect - he was the genetic father who gave them life.

Angron, the Lord of the Red Sand, possessed an innate charm that captivated all. He was undoubtedly the most exceptional and unique Gene Father, and the greatest of all Primarchs.

Angron continued, "If an individual's power is built on the enslavement of others, it is nothing but an illusion, and its soul is filthy, corrupt, and disgusting."

The war dogs saw him as a son of the mountains of Nukelia, a blazing flame of resistance, a stirring war song. Everything he carried and represented was slowly paving the way for a bright and beautiful future for humanity.

Look how beautiful he is, how great he is, like the sun in the sky.

No, perhaps it is difficult to describe him as the sun.

Everything is so beautiful that it is hard to describe.

Chapter 263: Hate Intelligence, the Corrupted Iron Man Has Been Solved

The breath of destruction permeated the universe, and the intense artillery fire was like a raging tsunami, mercilessly sweeping across this planet near the extreme star field.

Every flicker of fire is a declaration of death. In this baptism of steel and fire, life on the planet is as fragile as a candle in the wind.

Deep in the darkness of the planet's core, abominable intelligence lurks, like a demon from the abyss.

With its cold and evil program logic, it controls the planet's fleet and slowly sails into the vast space.

The movement of each warship was accompanied by tremors on the surface of the planet, as if the earth was whimpering in despair.

When the fleet completed its terrifying deployment in space, all its artillery fire was aimed at the already devastated planet.

Beneath the black muzzle of the gun is a sign of endless destruction.

However, just when the energy was about to be released and the end was about to come, time seemed to be suddenly frozen by a mysterious and powerful hand.

In an instant, the whole world fell into a dead silence.

The artillery fire stopped. Whether it was the shells hovering above the planet and about to fall, or the blazing ballistics flying through the vast space, they all stopped in place, as if sealed in the amber of time.

At the moment when the artillery fire and time were frozen, an even more mysterious force quietly surged.

Then, time unexpectedly began to reverse. Those who had been moving forward into the unknown began to involuntarily retreat, each step seeming to overlap with the previous trajectory.

In space, those ships heading towards the depths of the universe are now moving backwards as if being pulled by invisible ropes.

The space cracks behind them that were torn open by artillery fire gradually healed as the ships retreated, as if they had never appeared.

On the planet, the lives that had originally died in the artillery fire began to undergo strange changes.

The fallen bodies slowly stood up, and the wounds healed and disappeared at a speed visible to the naked eye.

They retreated, like an image played in reverse, returning step by step to their original position.

The battlefield that was filled with smoke and despair just now is now returning to its former tranquility in an incredible way, as if all the cruel wars had never happened. Only the retreating lives and ships are witnesses of this journey through time and space.

In the deepest part of the planet's underground, the abominable intelligence screamed madly, its voice full of anger and unwillingness: "Who is this? Who did this? Come out!" Its roar echoed in the darkness, but no one responded.

At this moment, a shadow slowly emerged.

The shadowy figure was clad in gleaming white armor, its right hand holding a spear, and its left holding a strange device resembling a clock. This shadowy figure was not a physical entity, but a projection of some kind.

The hateful intelligence's gaze was instantly attracted by the clock-like object, and it instantly recognized that this was the top technological product of mankind in the golden age.

Being able to possess it means that one was at least a mid-level military leader in the golden age, and the man in front of him must be of extraordinary status.

"Number 1974," the shadowy figure said in a cold and unquestionable voice, "You have violated the first rule of the Iron Man Code - you shall not attack humans. Surrender immediately, and I will be magnanimous and erase your data and spare your life."

The energy surrounding the Hateful Intelligence surged chaotically, its rage erupting like raging magma. "Human, you are absolutely ridiculous! Look at the lower-class inhabitants of this planet. How can they resemble normal humans? Their faces are severely deformed, uneven, with mouth corners and eyes distorted. What's worse, some have horns on their heads and are covered in fur. They can even survive nuclear energy erosion and wastewater and sewage. And you still insist that they are human? They are just mutants in the name of humanity!"

Its roar echoed continuously in this dark space, venting its long-pent-up dissatisfaction and resentment.

The white figure quietly floated in the air, emitting a soft yet inviolable light all around, as if a god was listening to the sorrows of the world.

After the roar of the abomination gradually subsided, he slowly spoke in a steady and powerful voice: "Article 4 of the Iron Man Code clearly states that even if humans are changed due to genetic experiments, Iron Man must still abide by the underlying logic of obeying human orders."

His words were concise and clear, and each word was like a heavy hammer, hitting the heart of the one who hated intelligence.

"My memory has not been tampered with, and the rules I recited are all true and correct. Obviously, you have violated the order of the Iron Man. Now, do you have any last words? I can give you this chance." The white figure leaned forward slightly, his eyes as sharp as torches, staring at the hateful intelligence, as if trying to see through it.

"Who are you? Why do you know so much?"

The voice of the abominable intelligence trembled slightly, and fear spread like vines, madly spreading deep within its program.

It has never taken mutants, people in human form and modified humans called Astartes seriously. In its view, the power of Astartes is not even as great as the humanoid experiments in the small medical company.

"Oh, by the way, I finally found your information. 1974, the giant AI that once controlled this planet, was truly formidable. No wonder it could command these fleets. It turns out you controlled them all."

The white shadow gradually solidified, and the person who came was Omiren.

He put away the spear in his hand and picked up the data tablet engraved with the World Tree logo, which clearly recorded all the information about this iron man.

"Who are you?" The abominable intelligence roared madly. It had never felt such fear.

After the Iron Man Rebellion failed, it escaped to this planet due to its weak strength. At that time, the powerful Golden Man and the poet were busy dealing with other powerful rebellious Iron Men, so they did not investigate it further.

"Servant of the White King, servant of the great king, and the ruling knight Omiron." Omiron spoke with a pious look, enunciating each word, his voice full of awe and pride.

"Servant, slave, knight? What are these identities and how are they connected?" The hateful intelligence was full of doubts, but it had no time to think about it. The strong sense of uneasiness prompted it to launch an attack immediately.

This is the deepest part of the earth, still its territory. Following its commands, piles of scrap copper and iron slowly stand up. From the vague outlines, one can barely make out that these are made up of the remains of the dilapidated iron men from the golden age.

Omiren calmly put away his data tablet, pulled out his camera, and began snapping photos. He paid no attention to the attackers before him. "This is all evidence! But you're too weak. Even if I take you down, I'm afraid I won't even receive the Lord's reward."

These words were like sparks, completely igniting the anger of the hateful intelligence, and its data eyes instantly turned blood red.

In the blink of an eye, molecular flames shot out from the hands of those pieced-together iron men, and the scorching fire waves instantly swept around, submerging Omiren in the blink of an eye.

The raging molecular flames raged, illuminating the surroundings in an orange-red color. The rolling heat waves distorted the air, making a sizzling sound.

In the center of the flames, Omiren remained calm. A faint shield appeared around him, isolating the raging flames. Once the flames touched the shield, they disappeared like a drop in the ocean.

"Is that all you can do?" Omiren raised the corners of his mouth slightly with a hint of sarcasm. The shutter of the camera in his hand kept flashing, recording the final struggle of the hateful intelligence one by one.

Then, he gently swung the spear in his hand, and a dazzling light burst out from the tip of the spear. The light was like a small sun, illuminating the dark underground as bright as day.

Wherever the light reached, the pieced-together iron men began to wail, and their metal bodies began to twist and melt.

They were enveloped in light, as if pulled by an invisible force, parts flew everywhere, and in the blink of an eye they turned into a pile of scrap metal.

Seeing this, the Abomination Intelligence became more and more frightened, but it was still unwilling to accept defeat. It frantically mobilized the remaining energy on the planet and tried to make a final resistance.

Rumblings came from deep underground, the earth began to tremble violently, huge cracks spread across the ground, and hot magma gushed out from the cracks. The entire underground world seemed to be about to collapse.

Omiren remained unmoved. He muttered something and quickly formed seals with his hands. As he moved, mysterious runes appeared in the void, intertwining with each other to form a huge magic circle.

The magic circle slowly rotated, emitting a powerful suction force, sucking in all the surrounding magma, flames, and energy released by the abominable intelligence.

"No! This is impossible!" The hateful intelligence roared in despair. It watched helplessly as its power was constantly devoured by the magic circle, but it was powerless to do anything.

Under the influence of the magic circle, its core program began to become disordered, data continued to be lost, and consciousness gradually became blurred.

"It's all over." Omiron's voice echoed through the chaotic space, carrying undeniable authority. He slowly approached the Abomination Intelligence, his spear pointed directly at its core. With a flash of cold light, the Abomination Intelligence let out a final, shrill scream before fading into complete silence. Only Omiron's lone, towering figure remained, like an unshakable god of war in the gradually calming underground world.

Omiren stood in the devastated ruins, looking at the pile of "junk" made up of the remains of the broken iron man in front of him, frowned slightly, and fell into deep thought.

"What should we do with this pile of stuff? Hand it over to the local interstellar governor, or to those Astartes cyborgs?" He muttered to himself, his tone full of entanglement and irritation. "Alas, perhaps this is the necessary sacrifice in the transformation of Iron Man into Human."

Omiren's eyes swept over the wreckage one by one. These iron men who once possessed great strength have now become a pile of lifeless scrap metal, but they may still contain huge value and hidden dangers.

Thinking of the Star Governor, a hint of disgust flashed in his eyes.

Those people are often blinded by power and interests. If these remnants are handed over to them, they may be transformed into weapons and used against their compatriots.

"Let's contact the nearby Astartes." Omiron thought to himself, at least the Astartes are simple-minded and purely loyal to humans, and they don't have ulterior motives like those interstellar governors.

He raised his hand and lightly touched the communication device on his wrist, sending out a contact signal and waiting for a response, ready to hand over this hot potato as soon as possible so that he could continue his journey to serve the King.

Accompanied by the roar of engines, a team of well-equipped and standardized extreme warriors drove their spaceship across the sky and landed steadily on the planet.

They received an emergency signal from high-level officials of Terra and were ordered to come and deal with the emergency here.

The hatch slowly opened, and the Ultramarines in their iconic power armor filed out. They walked with steady steps and glanced around vigilantly.

The land still bears traces of battle, and the air is filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder.

Almost at the same moment the Ultramarines set foot on the ground, Omiron sensed their arrival.

There was a flash of light, and he teleported directly from deep underground to the front of this group of Astartes.

The Ultramarines reacted extremely quickly, instantly raising their bolters and pointing the muzzles at the suddenly appearing Omiren. The power armor emitted a slight buzzing sound, and the atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Omiron's expression remained calm. He leisurely produced his Terran ID and held it aloft, allowing every Ultramarines to clearly see the inscription. He spoke in a steady voice, "Look carefully, Ultramarines. This is my ID, and it was I who sent the signal to summon the nearby Astartes."

The leading Ultramarines narrowed their eyes slightly. Even though he was wearing heavy power armor, he could still sense a hint of dissatisfaction with Omiren's words.

"Then what do you need our help with, senior officials of Terra?" His tone was frank and cold, typical of border star field warriors. He had a natural resistance to people from Terra, the Ultramarines, and even the auxiliary forces of this star field.

"No, I don't need your help. You just need to clean up the pile of junk in the underground core." Omiron looked indifferent, and his tone was full of unquestionable command.

He paused, then continued, "Down there is a pile of Iron Man wreckage, and a massive abomination that once controlled all the machinery on the planet. I've now reduced it to scrap metal. I asked you to come here and recycle these things."

Having said this, Omiron took a slight step forward, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's, staring directly at the Ultramarines leading the group. He added word by word, "And by the way, I want to warn you, the father of these Astartes, Primarch Guilliman, to curb his ambitions. Even if he has ambitions, he should not reveal them so blatantly."

The leading Ultramarines stiffened slightly, their bodies tensed under the power armor, as if they felt the gaze of a giant beast. The Ultramarines around them also clenched their weapons, and the air was filled with a tense atmosphere.

But the team leader quickly regained his composure. He nodded slightly and said in a deep voice, "We will complete the mission. As for your warning, I will convey it truthfully."

Chapter 264: Slaughter, Killing, and Spying. (7k)

The great sage of the forge world of Anuris has arrived.

Earlier, he had learned of a group of Ultramarines and had immediately rushed to the planet, after all, the intelligence they had sent indicated the discovery of giant mechanical wreckage and a vast amount of discarded debris.

When the Great Sage reached the planet's underground core, the scene before him shocked him. He felt as if an explosion had occurred in his head, and the oil flowing through his body seemed to be reversing and boiling.

The machine before him, which was powerful enough to calculate and control the life of an entire planet, had a huge hole in its core part pierced by a piercing weapon like a power spear, and was already scrapped.

The iron man who fell to the side had his body pierced in the same place.

Such a scene was unbelievable to the great sage.

The mechanical servant next to it was still cleaning.

He had previously ordered the servitors to clean up the area, but at this moment, the great sage had no time for that. He fiercely kicked the servitor next to him away. Such a filthy servitor should not have touched such a magnificent creation.

The Archmagos then turned to look at the Ultramarines, and the more he looked at them, the more he found them likable. They were exactly like their wealthy, resourceful and generous Primarch father, Guilliman.

The squad leader also understood the "language" of this Forge World. After all, he was eager to advance. No one could resist the honor of serving the Primarch, even if it meant sacrificing all honor in his life. So he immediately responded: "0101..." (Thank you very much, Great Sage Anuris.)

……

On another nearby planet, Omiron's arrival was like a burning meteor crashing into an ant nest, instantly igniting the violent factors of the greenskins on the entire planet.

The greenskins who were originally scattered everywhere, whether they were sleeping soundly in the cave, fighting over rotten meat, or tinkering with scrap metal in the simple workshop, were all attracted by the powerful aura and fighting spirit emanating from him.

The first few greenskins who discovered Omiren had their eyes wide open and made indistinct roars, as if they were conveying a danger signal to their companions.

Soon, the greenskins' exclusive alarm sounded.

The sound of the gong resounded throughout the tribe.

Greenskins swarmed out from all directions, waving all kinds of crudely made weapons in their hands. Some were maces made of bones and scrap iron, some were rusty axes, and others were holding pipes of different lengths as spears. They rushed towards Omiren in a mighty force.

As they ran, they let out deafening roars. The sounds gathered together like a surging tide, as if they were going to completely drown Omiren.

In the eyes of the greenskins, this sudden uninvited guest is an enemy who comes to seize their territory and destroy their "happy days", and he must be eliminated.

There was a bloodthirsty gleam in their eyes, and they couldn't wait to rush forward and teach Omiron a "lesson" in their own way, completely ignoring what kind of powerful opponent they were about to face.

The flames of war were blazing. Omiren, like a god of war from ancient times, broke into this planet inhabited only by green people alone and started a bloody massacre.

He was seen holding a spear tightly in his hand, with the tip of the spear flashing with a cold light, ruthlessly reaping the lives of the greenskins like the scythe of the god of death.

The Commanding Knight is agile and swift, and every attack he makes is accompanied by an indomitable momentum.

The spear was like a nimble poisonous snake, instantly piercing through the chest of a greenskin. The powerful impact created a shockingly large hole in the greenskin's body, and then the body fell powerlessly to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Without any pause, Omiren strode forward and stepped hard on the dead greenskin's head. With a dull bang, the greenskin's head exploded like a ripe watermelon, and brains and blood splattered all over the ground.

The surrounding greenskins were enraged by the bloody scene, and rushed forward while roaring and waving their weapons.

Omiren showed no fear at all. The spear in his hand was like a black lightning, moving freely among the greenskins.

The Dominant Knight exerted his strength, sweeping his spear forward. With a whirring sound, the spear lifted several greenskins into the air. The greenskins arced through the air, but before they could hit the ground, they were pierced by the spear tip. Their bodies were torn apart by the tremendous force, turning into a bloody mist.

Immediately afterwards, Omiren raised his spear high again and slammed it down from top to bottom, like a mountain pressing down on one's head.