The Bizarre Adventures of the Oil Man, but Starting with Warhammer 32K

The reason why the hall was so empty was revealed at this moment. As a series of bombs were detonated, a group of greenskins armed with daggers and pistols rushed down from the ceiling, howling.

The Space Marines had noticed these special forces boys long ago, but they were eager to get to the battlefield and this was the only way they could take. But when they dealt with these special forces boys in the smoke of the explosion, more greenskins came out from all directions.

They were entangled.

Completely different from the greenskins they had faced before, the warriors of the Black Templars felt the weight of the beast war for the first time.

"Leave someone behind to cover our retreat!"

Travis decisively took over the command, "Keep moving forward, don't stop!"

The Astartes continued to advance along the corridor like a sharp black knife, but with every step forward, more greenskins would emerge from their ambush to block their advance.

More and more warriors were sent to cover the rear, but these cunning orcs were not in a hurry to tangle with the rearguard warriors. They actually consciously sent some of their men to entangle these warriors, while the rest continued to chase the Astartes team.

The advancing team became thinner and thinner, and in the end, only Travis and Lancelot were left in the advancing team.

The number of orcs chasing them had become relatively "scarce" after the other brothers left behind them, but there were still thousands of them at a glance.

Lancelot, who was in the front, found an entrance. He leaned over to listen and could even hear the breathing of the Grand Marshal and the grinning of the orc warlord.

He turned and shouted to Travis who was left behind: "I found the entrance!"

Travis, holding the black sword, did not look back. He continued to fight hard among the beasts: "Then go in!"

"Why? You are the one who should go in! As the Emperor's Champion, you should slay the Orc leader and win the glory worthy of the title of Champion!"

"Who will cover the rear?"

"Of course it is me!"

He heard the Emperor's Champion sneer, "How many?"

Travis took advantage of the situation and chopped down a greenskin boss who was trying to attack by surprise. The blade of the black sword cut through the air, accurately cutting through the greenskin's armor, and blood spurted out.

The other greenskins rushed forward, hoping to seize the opportunity to pin the Emperor's Champion down, but he gracefully dodged their sharp claws and fangs. At the same time, he swung his sword across, creating a small vacuum around him.

Lancelot knew that he could never be as skilled and powerful as him.

But he still struggled with the honor of being the Emperor's Champion—a story he had revered since he officially became a Black Templar.

He had heard tales of the Emperor's Champions slaying formidable foes. Now he stood shoulder to shoulder with one, yet he couldn't give him a chance against the Ork Warlord.

He would rather die without a complete body while stopping the greenskins than let his fantasy of becoming the Emperor's champion be shattered here!

But the Emperor's Champion still spoke the truth coldly.

"No matter who goes in, as long as they can strike the orc warlord with a sword while he's not paying attention, the situation inside will be reversed in an instant."

"But here, the only one who can stop these greenskins is me, Lancelot, only me."

"Then the honor of you and the Emperor's Champion...!"

Lancelot is still engaged in a cruel struggle with himself.

"I never cared about that! Run, Lancelot, and get out of here!"

The Emperor's Champion shouted, "To achieve victory, I will use my life more ruthlessly than anyone else!"

Those words seemed to snap the last remaining string. Lancelot, still holding the battle flag, took one last look at Travis, who had single-handedly stopped thousands of orcs. Finally, he gritted his teeth and plunged into the passage leading to the decisive battle.

He hurried forward and saw a tragic battle scene when he reached the center of the hall.

The several warriors accompanying the Grand Marshal were either lying or lying on their backs, their blood pooling on the ground. They were obviously dead. Now the only one who could stand against the orc warlord was Grand Marshal Bosimonde, but his condition was also very critical.

Faced with a behemoth over five meters tall, Astartes, who was like a giant in front of mortals, was nothing more than a fragile doll.

When dealing with a monster like this, where you have no chance of wrestling, dodging is the main method of combat. However, dodging itself consumes a lot of energy.

Bosimonde's movements began to slow down, his steps no longer light. In the moment of dodging sideways, he noticed Lancelot coming in.

"Where's Travis?"

"He's outside intercepting the orcs!"

"Let him in! Only the Emperor's Champion can defeat such an opponent!"

Lancelot didn't know how to explain the Emperor's Champion fighting thousands of Orcs alone outside. He felt as if he had been excluded from this battle. Although he was an honorable banner bearer, the honor of holding the battle banner seemed to have no effect on this battle.

The Emperor's Champion let him in, but the Grand Marshal told him to go find the Emperor's Champion...

What should he do?

His hesitation was only for a moment, but the situation of the confrontation between the warlord and the marshal had changed suddenly in this instant.

The distraction during the conversation exposed the already tired Bosimonde's fatal weakness. When the warlord's machete was about to reach him, he barely reacted and immediately realized that he could not avoid the orc's next attack.

Jin Ya seized the opportunity and grinned, revealing a ferocious smile.

"How dare you get distracted while fighting with me?"

He rushed forward suddenly, forcing Bosimonde, who had no time to dodge and adjust his posture, into a dead corner. He swept the machete in his hand, which was as long as an entire Astartes, violently, intending to cut Bosimonde in half!

Bosimonde had no choice but to hold his sword horizontally to block, but his Grand Marshal's sword seemed extremely small in the face of this huge threat.

The clash of metal was deafening. The Grand Marshal's sword, reforged from Dorn's sword, remained unscathed in the clash, but Goldfang's immense force caused the power sword, chained to his wrist, to fall from his hand.

Bosimonde's arm drooped unnaturally, clearly dislocated in the previous collision. With his weapon removed, he could only watch helplessly as Gold Teeth raised his machete once more.

"This is what happens when you provoke me, you little bastard!"

Gold Teeth laughed wildly and mockingly: "Let me chop you to death, then go cry like a woman to that big golden guy!"

This battle seemed to be coming to an end.

But there are still variables.

At the critical moment, Lancelot dropped his battle flag and pounced forward.

He used his chainsword to block the machete, and although he couldn't stop it, he used the force to slightly change its direction. His other free hand grabbed the immobilized Grand Marshal.

Lancelot pushed forward, and he and the marshal rolled on the ground. Although embarrassed, they escaped the clutches of the orc warlord.

Bohemund opened his eyes wide and looked at Lancelot who had abandoned his battle flag and saved him.

Lancelot could swear that there was no relief in those eyes, only overflowing anger.

"Lancelot!"

He roared: "What have you done!"

"I saved you..."

"I only see you abandoning our honor and our battle flag!"

"We can't lose the Marshal!"

Lancelot also raised his voice, thinking of the Emperor's champion who was still fighting the beasts outside. But Bosimonde cruelly denied him.

"Under the Emperor's Champion, I am but an ordinary warrior. Lancelot, your actions will bring shame to the entire Black Templars!"

Even though they were still fighting, there was a hint of a split between the two. Jin Ya watched them with great interest; he wouldn't mind witnessing another little internal strife before sending them off.

But Squiggle on his shoulder suddenly tapped his shoulder, warning him of the impending danger. Gold Fang listened attentively, and he keenly caught a sound.

Are there other canned shrimps coming?

No, it wasn't footsteps. It was something else, like the crunching sound of those tech-savvy guys cutting through steel, and it was approaching quickly...

That thing is fast!

Jin Ya suddenly became alert. He turned around hastily and saw a huge dragon head breaking through the layers of obstacles on the battleship and crushing into the battlefield with unparalleled momentum!

He tried to dodge the attack, but just like Bosimonde just now, he was unable to dodge it. He could only hold his sword horizontally to block, but this action was exactly the same as Bosimonde's.

At this moment, he seemed even more ridiculous than Bohemund, whom he had just mocked.

At least Poseidon's opponent is not a giant ship bow weighing tons!

Even though the kinetic energy provided by the Sky Comet Dragon's engine was exhausted after crashing through the battleship's armor, the dragon-headed bow painted blood-red still knocked the orc warlord away in a near standstill!

The massive machete held before him instantly crumbled to dust, sending Jin Ya flying backwards, smacking the wall like a fly swatted by a giant hand. His body sank into the wall, clinging to it like a distorted painting. A cloud of dust rose around him, signaling the ferocity of the collision.

But he could still breathe.

Armidale led the warriors who leaped from the battleship, their weapons in hand, as they cautiously approached the Orc warlord. The Felynx behind them, armed with Avenger Bolters detached from their vehicles, formed teams of two, pushing these Gatling-like weapons and immediately blocking the key points in the hall.

The yellow power armor they wore revealed their identities to the Black Templars, and the two men who had been arguing stopped, their attention also drawn to the sudden arrival of reinforcements.

"Imperial Fist..."

Lancelot murmured.

No matter how you look at it, their appearance was too...shocking.

But Bosimonde's attention was drawn to something else. He stared at the strange-looking ship, and the dragon-headed prow and wing-like structure made him frown.

This doubt was not alleviated by the rescue of the Imperial Fists. When Armidel drew out the flying dragon sword Hongye from his back, his pupils almost shrank into dangerous needles.

"Demon Weapon...!"

Armidale paid no attention to Bosimonde's attitude. They approached their primary target, the orc warlord, like a predator. The measured footsteps echoed across the floor, forming a breathtaking rhythm.

Gold Fang struggled to rise from the dent in the wall, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth, the sound of his ribs cracking clearly audible. His arm, holding the giant claw, was tilted, clearly severely damaged. But even in this desperate situation, his scarred face still managed a ferocious smile.

“You idiots…!”

He cursed and stood up, ready to make a final stand. The veterans of the Second Legion raised their weapons in alert. Unexpectedly, Gold Tooth turned and ran.

There's no one here to see him, so why doesn't he run away?

Don’t think they are all fools who only know how to fight!

He is an orc warlord who knows how to advance and retreat!

"Just wait and see! I'll get back at you!"

He roared hoarsely, his steps stumbling but still agile as he fled. The stunned soldiers tried to give chase, but they were clearly not as familiar with the warship's structure as he was.

Jin Ya quickly disappeared at the end of the dim corridor, leaving only a strong smell of blood.

Amidel and his men had no choice but to put away their weapons and return to the only two remaining Black Templars.

"I hope we arrived in time."

Armidale offered his goodwill, but was met with a fierce stare from Bosimonde.

The other party didn't seem to appreciate it.

"When did the glorious Imperial Fists fall so low as to associate with the devil?"

The Grand Marshal questioned, his tone full of coldness.

Amidel paused for a moment before realizing that the other party was probably referring to his weapon.

Armor covered with fangs, a long sword with dragon claws...

It might indeed look like a demonic weapon, but out of respect for the warriors, even if the other Astartes were curious, they would not pry into the secrets, let alone question them.

He remembered what Leon had told him beforehand, that the Black Templars were a group of stubborn lunatics.

The other party is obviously outstanding among this group of lunatics.

Amidel's expression quickly turned cold. He had no good feelings towards this kind of person who would bite anyone he saw.

The atmosphere between the two sides quickly turned cold due to Bosimonde's ingratitude. Fortunately, Isaga also arrived at this time.

He hurried in from the corridor and was also a little surprised by Armidale's weapon. However, compared to the Grand Marshal, he was obviously more reasonable.

"We thank our Imperial Fists brothers for their assistance."

He extended his hand towards Armidale, "As expected, no matter what the time, the warriors of the Imperial Fists are always a reliable cornerstone on the battlefield."

Chapter 109: Sacrifice and Difference.

Isaga noticed a slight twitch in the warriors' cheeks.

Could it be that the warriors of the Imperial Fists now suffer from the same defect of rigid neural knots as the Rebukers?

Seeing that Isaga was beginning to have wild thoughts, Amidel had no choice but to step forward and accept his gratitude on his behalf.

"As brothers, we should do this."

He glanced at Bosimonde standing beside him, "I just don't know...?"

"The venerable Grand Marshal Bosimonde, he simply went too far in following the Emperor's path."