Warhammer, how did I become Butcher's Nail!

These guys have only one ultimate goal: him—Butcher's Nail!

A new storm has begun to form, and these genetic protos are already in the vortex. Lu Heng originally thought that the gods would withdraw their tentacles, but it seems that he has posed too great a threat to the dark gods.

Since that's the case, let's have some fun.

Lu Heng and the Emperor shared the same idea.

Either the gods of the warp die!

Either humanity survives gloriously!

Is it possible to lose a martial arts match?

Liu: [Forward four, Guilliman, let's break out!]

Get Conrad Coates ready!

Guilliman took a deep breath; he could feel that the Redemption was already 37 percent damaged!

P.S.: Second update! I'll be adding an extra chapter later, please vote!

Volume 1: Chapter 233 (Chapter 221) Kill him, Ger!

Seven people.

When Forgrim landed on Lycaea from space orbit, he announced the arrival of the Empire to the world, but times had changed, and the Empire's warships were so weak.

But for Forgrim, a small number of people is not incapable of persuading the world, after all, Forgrim has done this before from the beginning.

The mortal guards have already gathered together.

The Ljucaius government has received Fugram's message, but coincidentally, the world seems to be facing a rebellion!

At this moment, for the Ljucaius government, the arrival of the human empire was a completely unexpected and delightful surprise!

The slaves across the planet are rioting, and the local government of Ljucaius is powerless to deal with it. Furthermore, the Ljucaius World Technical Order is also embroiled in internal strife. As for the slave owners' armies...

Most of them were annihilated by the rebel armies long ago!

So much so that when Forgrim arrived on the planet's surface aboard the Stormbird, the government officials and slave owners who greeted him saw him as a savior!

Forgrim's massive figure looked down at the aged ruler before him. The amethyst armor reflected the man's face, which was filled with fear and trembling. As the emerald green cloak with gold trim fluttered in the air, the man seemed like a hero straight out of mythology.

He began to speak.

"I am very pleased that you have submitted to the Empire."

"Forgrim spoke slowly and deliberately," he said, his voice unhurried and possessing the unique elegance of a noble person.

"Although I don't know much about your current situation, I know that you've grabbed us as if we were your last lifeline."

Fugrim looked directly at the mortal before him with a sharp insight.

"Yes, great messenger. We should have dealt with our internal turmoil, but I have witnessed the greatness of the human empire. Perhaps fighting side by side will deepen our friendship."

The slave owner chuckled, his mouth full of lies. Forgrim laughed, clutching his stomach as if he had seen something hilarious.

He pointed at the ruler in front of him for a long time before finally shutting his mouth.

"You're hilarious!"

"Submit to us, or be destroyed. The choice is yours."

Fugrim gave him two choices: he only needed the nominal government to submit to him, and he didn't care who was supporting that government, after all, this was his brother's world!

Words are a sharp knife. After the slave owner's little scheme was exposed, his face was filled with embarrassment, but he still lowered his head and knelt on the ground. Fugrim looked at the lowly ant-like fellow in front of him.

He scoffed.

It let out a giggle.

Then he was struck by a sickle.

"Your laughter sounds like that of an animal in heat."

Mortarian said in a low, eerie voice.

Fugrim's resentful return led him to complain that Mortalian had disturbed his perfect performance.

“Ger”.

Angron sat in his wheelchair, looking at the slave owner in front of him. Through his communicator, he heard Ger's report on the intelligence of this world.

This is a world of slaves.

Angron had already seen through the true nature of the man in front of him; he was a wicked slave owner!

"We are willing to submit to the human empire's offer of amnesty."

The elderly slave owner knew this was their only chance to survive.

Fogrem nodded slightly.

"I accept..."

"Kill him!"

Before Forgrim could finish speaking, Angron's faint voice rang out. Gale drew his power sword from his waist, already prepared. In Forgrim's eyes, he saw Gale unleash an extraordinary power; the blade sliced ​​through the air, and a head flew off.

"What did you do?!"

Fugrim's shrill cry echoed across the tarmac.

The mortal guards of Lycaeus had not yet reacted.

"Fire!"

Gel drew his bolter and fired at the mortal guards of Lycaus in the distance.

No!

Isn't this my responsibility to handle the negotiations?

"What do you want to do!"

Fugrim could no longer tolerate these damned war-crazed lunatics.

"This is not liberation!"

"They are oppressors, they are slave owners!" (Hedgehog)

Fugrim was panting heavily. He stared at Angron, who was craning his neck to look at him, for a long while.

"Your Highness, Fugrim." (folded)

Gel twisted off the last mortal's head and threw it directly at Forgrim's feet.

"Tell me what's wrong. I'm in charge of the War Hounds now."

"I gave the order, and I killed the man."

Gel gazed at the imperial demigod, his tone devoid of any respect. (Seven)

"What do you think Nail would say if he saw this?"

"Forgrim asked coldly."

"Good for him." Lu

"?" Jiu

Fugrim looked at Angron with surprise. Zero

"The nail will say it was good to kill him."

Angron repeated himself. As the person who had spent the most time with Nail, Angron absolutely scoffed at Forgrim's ideas. What would Nail say? If he were to utter a single word to those oppressors in this situation, Nail would definitely electrocute him half to death.

“Forgrim, my brother, the latest intelligence indicates that a fellow named Corax appears to be the leader of the rebels. That guy seems to be our brother. How about we entrust this task of finding our brother to you?”

Angron didn't want to say anything more to Forgrim about this.

"it is good."

After a long silence, Fogrem nodded.

“Edmund went to contact those rebels; perhaps we should have a good talk.”

Forgrim sent his offspring to contact his brother, and the next second...

"I hope you won't interfere with me this time!"

Fogrem proudly raised his head.

Angron gave Forgrim a disdainful look. Even after being taught a lesson by the nails, the guy's annoying appearance remained unchanged.

"It's up to you, Ger. Go and take over the government of this world. We will mobilize everyone we can."

Angron's voice drowned out the faint roar of the engine behind him.

"We are not the fire-callers."

"The people of this world already have a leader and a liberator."

“From this moment on, they have emerged from the shadows, and now we need to prepare them for the future.”

Angron’s tone was very calm.

“Find those slave owners and make them wait for my brother to arrive.”

Ger readily accepted the order and then withdrew immediately.

Angron raised his head and looked at the sky above Lycaeus.

No one knows what he's thinking.

P.S.: Third update! Please vote!

Volume 1: Chapter 234 (Chapter 222) Saving Private Carlos!

The alarm wailed incessantly on the bridge.

Guilliman sat on his throne, listening to the reports from the Warhound crew on the bridge. Even though they were under siege and in extremely dangerous circumstances, the crew remained remarkably calm.

Even the most resolute captains on the Makurag Glory would find their voices slightly agitated at such a moment, even if they were usually calm.

but!

Lotara Salyn and the others didn't; it seemed like they were having a picnic, which was an illusion.

We're stuck.

The sound of nails rang out as nearly thirty ships were locked in combat with the Redemption. The remaining four ships had survived until now entirely because their captains followed orders. Guilliman quickly analyzed the surrounding intelligence, but he was currently clueless.

The Wiesmande is too slow. The engines of this 500-world ship can no longer keep up with our speed. We need to abandon them or transfer the people on board to the Redemption.

The nails immediately gave Guilliman a clue: the Weissmand had already suffered too much damage.

"Caslot Communication!"

Guilliman ordered his men to bring Caslot's communications in.

“Your Highness Guilliman, too many aliens have invaded the Weismand. The Fifteenth Legion will defend the Weismand to the death to create an opportunity for you, Father, to reunite with His Highness Koz.”

When Caslot's image came in, his first words made Guilliman's heart skip a beat.

He gaped, realizing Caslot was right; if things dragged on any longer...

Then the remaining ships will all be devoured by this alien fleet.

“Caslot”.

Guilliman looked at his progenitor, this progenitor from Terra, with a complex expression, and then closed his eyes in anguish.

There are nearly two thousand Ultramarines on the Weismand. Although they are invincible Imperial warriors on the ground, in space, in this vast ocean, anyone could be directly overturned and thrown into this deep abyss.

[Having Caslot help us block the alien ships behind us will increase our chances of success by eleven percent.]

The sound of nails echoed in Guilliman's mind. Guilliman knew the nails were right; with his exceptional sensitivity to numbers, Guilliman knew this would be the best outcome.

“Lotara Salin…”

Guilliman spoke.

[Have the gunboat squadron prepare ten Stormbirds; if that's not enough, get more from other ships. Also, have Rand prepare the newest gunboats. Lotara Salyn, I need you to stay put and help us intercept the ships behind us.]

"Let's go, Unit 13, let's go save Private Carlos."

Guilliman listened to Lu Heng's broadcast inside the ship and was momentarily incredulous.