Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Latest URL: A bullet fired from the shadows pierced through the head of an orc, turning its brain into a lake of rotten flesh.

The bullet remained undiminished. I don't know if it was a coincidence. It carried the blood of the previous orc into the back of the next orc's head, and then came out from the lower jaw.

The poor guy's entire head and face were beaten into disfigurement, and his jaw flew to the other end of the corridor. Blood and pieces of flesh instantly filled every corner of this dark corridor.

However, this is far from over.

A gun was thrown out of the darkness, and with such force it almost smashed into the flattened nose of the last orc. The only remaining orc hadn't recovered from the attack, but it roared loudly because of the severe pain.

Slapping the nose is always effective, and under the nerve stack, the excessive pain will cause great pain to any creature with a sense of smell.

A black figure came running wildly, grabbed the bolter embedded in its face with its left hand, and pulled it out forcefully. He kicked the orc to the ground, and then began to beat it in the face with the butt of his gun until its head was completely transformed into a pumpkin thrown from the second floor.

Frank raised his hand and glanced at the assault-type bolter. After the bullets were completely fired, it did not live up to the mission it was designed for. The hefty feel of the bolter lends itself well to being a blunt weapon. But now, it's almost time to die.

The metal gun stock was distorted out of shape, the barrel was bent, and the front sight on the guide rail disappeared without a trace.

Frank threw it into the corpses of the orcs, and the bolter fell into the middle of the three corpses impartially, and made a cold and hard sound on the blood-stained metal black ground, bringing a dull echo, like It was the Machine Soul chuckling in satisfaction.

"It is recommended to take cover immediately, there is an orc patrol 700 meters ahead."

The mechanical sound of Wenzhen reminded him, but Frank didn't bother to pay attention. He counted his ammunition reserves, and as expected, the results were not good.

The Plasma is completely out, the combat shotgun has one magazine left, and the bolter from the station on Terra is in the best condition with two left. Flashbangs and stun grenades were used up early on.

He pondered for a while, and decided to hide and use a combat dagger to deal with this orc patrol, which is not a difficult task. Ridge's radar shows that they don't have heavy armor units, which is much easier to deal with.

There was a boss on the last orc patrol wearing crude armor,

The cuirass part is made from the Terminator's front fender. Conventional fire couldn't do damage to the bastard, so he had to use up his last plasma magazine. The thing had been staring at him as it died, yelling for another fight.

Frank sneered: Another fight? I really want to kill you again.

A dull light flashed across the surface of the specially made Seiko power armor, and he entered the darkness completely. The magnetic boots were activated, and Frank walked straight from the wall to the ceiling with the help of the silence circle without a sound. He crouched on the ceiling, waiting patiently in a way that completely violated any laws of physics.

Ten seconds later, the ground began to tremble. The orcs hadn't arrived yet, but their noisy voices had already reached Frank's ears.

"I heard gunshots over here!"

"You can hear everything!" one of the orcs muttered. "I was rummaging through the shrimps, so you must have heard something and dragged us here."

"I told you that I heard gunshots from here, why don't you believe me?"

The orc who spoke at the beginning yelled impatiently: "If you think I've delayed you from grabbing something, you can tell Boss World Destroyer that he will beat you or me when the time comes!"

They ran closer and closer, and then they all stopped running at a certain time. The orc who spoke first gasped.

"Damn Brother Mao!" it yelled wildly. "Who beat these bums like this? My dear, why did they die so badly?"

"You actually heard it right, haha! It must be Xiami!"

The complaining orc laughed happily: "This shrimp must be very strong! If I kill him, I want his gun or boots!"

"You can't fit his boots, what are you going to do?"

"It's none of your business, can't I use it for soup? You talk too much, and Brother Mao will be mad at you sooner or later. I said it all, I——uh!"

It uttered a sharp cry, and then took its own life. A combat dagger pierced through its head from top to bottom without a trace of mercy or hesitation, and the instigator even thoughtfully twirled it once.

"There are enemies!"

"Fire! Hit the motherfucker!"

In the dimly lit hallway, the red lights of emergency lights flickered, and the orcs opened fire at each other. They poured fire with their exaggerated guns, and the bullets shot everywhere in the corridor, and the muzzle flames and red lights matched each other. After ten seconds, they stopped.

"Did you get the dried shrimp?"

"I don't think-"

There was another sound of metal scraping through the flesh, and the orc's words stopped abruptly, and it was impossible to say the second half of the sentence in this life. It fell to the ground, blood spattered out, and the red light continued to flash. There was no one in front of the corpse.

Fear began to spread among the remaining orcs, and after a few seconds of brief silence, one of them yelled, "Keep firing, you idiots! Kill him!"

The gunfire flashed, the red light swayed, and the blood flew. One after another corpses were produced here, it was like a slaughterhouse. Severed arms and limbs were flying everywhere, and the orc patrols were able to resist for a while at first, but in this situation where they couldn't see the enemy at all, and their own side kept dying, their will to fight quickly collapsed.

Without the leadership of the boss, the fighting will of the orcs is not worth mentioning. They can easily flee and fight among themselves. Sometimes he even shoots his own companions before killing them.

When everything stopped, Frank stood bloodied in the middle of the pile of corpses he had created, and swung his dagger. It hummed slightly, the surface vibrated, and the blood and minced meat were shaken off, revealing the bright blade again.

With a snap, Frank sheathed it.

Wen Zhen once again intimately reported the current situation on the Messenger of Faith: "You are in the orc-controlled area, please be prepared, you have slaughtered two hundred and seventy-one orcs, the orc leaders in this area It will be discovered soon. According to speculation, it has a high probability of sending orcs to search for you."

"I wish... Send a message to Bonavia and ask her to get some guns from the armory and send them to me. I remember you have a fixed-point teleportation function."

"Received, the message has been sent."

After the words fell, he disappeared into the darkness again.

The killing continues.

--------------------------------------

"Advance, 1st Company."

"Received, the first company is advancing."

Non-commissioned officer Eska squatted down calmly. The long-term training gave him an almost instinctive illusion of war. He always showed a kind of anxiety on weekdays, and he was so quiet and composed only on the battlefield.

The priests in the warband had talked to him many times about this, but Eska always believed that he had no problem.

He was just too eager to kill the enemies of humanity, that's all.

And now, this desire to kill is being satisfied.

The standard tactical posture gave him good feedback, crouching in the trenches dug by the orcs, and he was able to avoid their artillery fire.

The first company of the Crimson Fist is rapidly gathering and advancing. A hundred people are nothing to look at the entire battlefield, but they are Astartes, and they can do things that ordinary people cannot do.

This is also the meaning of their existence.

"Eska, 1,700 meters in front of you is an orc bunker built on a hillside. Inside, a squad of machine gunners and grenadiers caused a lot of trouble to the Mechanic Order's skitarii. I want you and your tactical team to kick this bunker down."

"Received the order, understand, company commander, please give me twenty minutes."

"Received, you have twenty minutes to complete your task, good luck."

Eska raised his hand and switched the communication channel to the team: "This is A-1, you all heard the mission. Sniper, provide us with fire cover. We will cross the trenches of the orcs within five minutes and Arrive under that bunker."

"Received, this is A-7, I will seize the commanding heights and clear the remaining orcs in the trenches for you, please rest assured to advance, for the sake of the Emperor and Dorne."

"For the Emperor and Dorne."

After the brief communication ended, Eska's tactical team quickly jumped out of the trench. The bolters fired again and again, and some of the orcs who were still resisting were instantly smashed in the head by the bolter's precise short bursts. This familiar scene made the team members couldn't help showing a grin of satisfaction.

The meaning of revenge is here, the hatred coagulates in their veins, and spreads throughout the body through the heart. Their whole bodies are condensed by hatred, the hatred for orcs-the Crimson Fist will never forget what happened in Ryan's world, they will never forget it.

Times have changed and Ryan will be rebuilt. The wounds of the people up there will heal, and the wounds of the world will heal. New buildings will rise, new crops will be grown, and new children will be born.

Ryan, their homeland - it will return to what it was before, and it will continue to sow and reap with the cycle of the seasons.

However, some things have happened, and some people have passed away.

Therefore, the Crimson Fists are always hungry for vengeance. And it is thirsting for the most violent and bloody revenge. They were hurt too, and they needed to be healed too.

The cure is the blood of the orcs.

"Close to me," Eska said. "Fuse shields, draw fire, and kill every orc you can see."

His order was faithfully carried out, and the team members didn't even hesitate for more than a second. The long battle left them not only scars, but also this complete trust in each other.

When they gather together, the force field shields fuse with each other, thereby providing a stronger defense capability, and can temporarily ignore the flying bullets for a short-term advance.

For the orcs, this is simply a doomsday scene. They couldn't understand why the gun in their hands suddenly failed when facing the can, and they didn't even bother to dodge it.

Eska advanced steadily, he was a non-commissioned officer and therefore a striker, at the front of the line.

An orc emerged from the trench, with a dazed look on its ugly, stupid face. Before it could say or do anything, Eska turned his arm instinctively and pulled the trigger. One shot, and it died.

He advances, and fires—their advance is completely unstoppable under the shield. Before the energy was exhausted, if the orcs did not resort to heavy fire, they could just stroll above the trenches and call them with bolters.

What a sight.

"A-1, this is A-7, there is a group of orcs ambushing two hundred meters in front of you, they have self-explosive Squigs. Repeat, they have self-explosive Squigs, please enter the trenches immediately to hide, I want to fire Suppressed."

"Understood, A-1 received."

Eska gestured, and he jumped into the trench dug by the orcs, followed by the team. This is the benefit of division of labor and cooperation. If the snipers don't seize the high point, then those self-explosive Squigs may cause them a lot of trouble. Shields are good, but they have a limit.

The trenches were full of corpses, cathars, fighter servants, and even a mechanical priest. But more are orcs. The corpses were piled on top of each other, scattered and scattered. The shell casings, glued to the blood, spread over them and sank into the mud.

War is always like this.

They walked quietly through the trenches, wary of orcs that might rush out. This is necessary, orcs are a seemingly stupid race, but they are actually very cunning, especially when it comes to fighting.

Sure enough, an orc lying under the dead body and pretending to be dead got up with a roar, and then more. They rushed towards the tactical team one after another, and the combat brothers did not choose to fire at the first time, although their reaction speed was actually able to kill these things the moment they got up.

But they don't want to do that.

After a few minutes, the battle was over. Not a single brother fell, all stood, even the armor was clean. Eska retracted the combat dagger and observed the result of the battle.

There were more than a dozen corpses of orcs in the trench, and the internal organs were flying everywhere. It was the masterpiece of the assaulters. He is surprisingly aggressive in melee combat, always fond of dismembering his enemies with his chainsword. This habit has earned him a not so good nickname.

They looked at each other, then walked to the end of the trench and waited patiently.

A moment later, several low-pitched gunshots sounded in the communication channel, and there was a violent explosion in front of them on the left. Eska stood up and saw a dazzling fire burning in front of him, and the voices of orcs crying for their father and mother were coming from there.

"A-1, this is A-7, you can move on, the danger is cleared."

"Received, thanks for the assistance, A-7, I'll treat you to a cup of black coffee when I get back."

"Understood, I am looking forward to it."

Without further ado, the tactical team jumped out of the trench and began to continue their advance. The distance of 1,700 meters was fleeting, and they soon reached the bottom of the hillside. This place used to be a small batching factory, and Eska could tell some of it from the pipes left on the ground.

This group of orcs actually broke through one of their batching factories under the nose of the Mechanic Order, and built a bunker here...

Eska narrowed his eyes and said, "The threat level has been raised. Everyone, get ready and check the ammunition and shield energy remaining. Assaulter, get ready, we will cover you."

He stepped aside, on guard. The assaulter stepped forward and took out a piece of explosive produced by Wenzhen from his belt. He activated it, and a dull blue light emanated from the surface of the dynamite. The assaulter raised his head, aimed slightly for a few seconds, and threw it onto the outer layer of the bunker.

The orcs above their heads didn't know anything about this, they were still yelling desperately, the rough and ugly gunshots rang out continuously, and there was also the black smoke accompanying the shooting. Eska's tactical squad was coming from behind the bunker, and they didn't know it. They also thought their companions were resisting.

Outflank tactics and poor information are never out of date.

Explosions sounded at the right time, and there was a vibration overhead, but this was only the beginning. The assaulter, who had already left his original position, began to use his multi-barreled melta gun to crazily pour firepower at the dilapidated bunker. Fifteen seconds later, the bunker completely disappeared, leaving only some dilapidated traces to prove that it once existed.

The firepower of the melta gun completely 'wiped out' the orcs in the bunker. In fact, most of them should have been completely killed as early as the first wave of explosions. The commando's suppression of fire is only a guarantee.

In fact, it is also a kind of venting anger. No one in the tactical team had an opinion on this. The Crimson Fists had a common opinion on dealing with the orcs.

"A-7, report to me, how is the bunker?"

"No orcs are left alive, well done, brothers." The sniper's voice sounded from the communication channel with a smile. "I can see clearly through the sniper scope, good work."

"receive."

Eska nodded and gestured for others to be alert. He adjusted the communication channel again and tuned it to the company channel: "This is Eska, we have completed the mission, repeat, we have completed the mission. The orc bunker has been cleared, the mission is completed."

"Received, Sergeant Eska, lead your team to stand guard on the spot, seize the high ground on the spot and carry out fire suppression. The Mechanic Order is approaching you. Your mission has changed. Not far away, there is a group that is being attacked by orcs. The foundry, which contains a complete fusion core. Your new mission is to attack that foundry with the Adeptus Mechanicus and take it back."

"Got it, understand."

"Good luck, Sergeant Eska."

Eska adjusted the communication channel again, but the sniper who had been waiting for a long time was the first to ask: "This is A-7, do I need to approach you?"

"Yes, A-7, come here quickly. We have a new mission. Others go up to seize the high ground and give some fire cover to the Adeptus Mechanics. There are still many orcs surviving on this battlefield, these inexhaustible scum... ..”

"Received, has moved, and is approaching you."

It didn't take long for the sniper to come close and immediately joined the fight. For a combat brother like him who loves shooting, there are not many opportunities to have a high ground and fire freely. Moreover, he is also the Crimson Fist.

Few of the Warbands hated the Orcs more than they did.

Compared with the ease and joy of the Crimson Fists, the Mechanics are much more struggling.

Insmara-1-Gama gasped softly, her lungs were burning with pain. Fortunately, that damned guy wasn't by her side, otherwise she would have started mocking her flesh and blood body that hadn't modified her much.

Thinking of this, she snorted coldly. He knows shit, a reformer...

A cathar sprinted past her, and Insmara knew his build.

Under the black armor are translucent artificial muscles, which are easy to use and easy to observe. His entire body can be disassembled freely, which is convenient for experimenting with various techniques. And his brain is the most quintessential place, and the transformation and strengthening made his brain have a precision comparable to that of a machine.

That's why, he was able to dodge the bullets of the orcs for a short time. In the overload mode, this elite skitarii rushed straight into the center of the orcs' position. He didn't carry a weapon, or he was the weapon himself.

In just a few seconds, a violent explosion rose in the orc camp. The Skitarii had completed his mission, and Insmara felt a twinge of envy—he had probably seen the God of Opportunities with his own eyes...

Unfortunately, she doesn't have the qualifications yet.

Electromagnetic guns whizzed past, which was regarded as a taboo technology in the eyes of many priests and was now being used by Insmara without any scruples. The electromagnetic fluid had overheated to a dangerous point, but she couldn't stop it.

The glory of the ohm messiah cannot be eclipsed by the dirty blood of these orcs, and as such, she will not stop here.

"boom--!"

The dull blue energy group landed at the feet of an orc with a dangerous whistling. Before it had time to rejoice, it discovered that the energy group was expanding.

Technology from the ancient past bloomed here again, and the energy cluster fired by the electromagnetic gun began to expand violently until it swallowed the orc until its flesh and blood were completely reduced to powder.

Insmara had no time to catch her breath, as she fired and advanced. He even had to devote his mind to giving instructions to the cathars. She has a squadron of skitarii, and they are the security of her mission.

She had to go and take back Foundry No. 73. It was the largest one in this area. If the orcs completely occupied it, the loss of weapons and equipment would be a trivial matter.

Once any of them has a bad brain and explodes the fusion core in the foundry, then most of the people on the entire western front will probably die here.

This is an unacceptable loss.

Insmara felt a scalp itch when a voice link that seemed slightly distorted in the context of the war entered her communication channel. Although the built-in communication is much safer and more convenient than the external one, it also has its disadvantages. This happens as soon as a new person enters.

"This is Sergeant Eska from the 1st Company of Crimson Fists, please reply."

Ah, those Astartes who were promised to come to their aid!

Insmara's unaltered lips curled slightly. Although she didn't know where these Astartes came from, they did bring the glory of the God of Opportunities. The crimson beams are still bombarding the orc positions on the main battlefield, creating opportunities for the Titan Legion to attack.

"Received, I am Priest Insmara-1-Gama, may I ask, are you here to support our Astartes?"

"Yes, Father Insmara. You and your squadron can move on. We are taking cover at the bunker five hundred meters ahead of you. You don't have to worry about the orc scum here anymore. They are completely dead. You guys When we arrive, we will act with you."

"Thank you for your help, I will try to..."

Yinsmara stopped where she was, and after receiving the order from her brain, several cathars immediately stepped forward and formed a human wall to protect her inside. The advantage of not having undergone too many transformations is here. On the battlefield, she can be very inconspicuous.

"Move forward at full speed, Skitarii, stop after arriving at the bunker 500 meters ahead."

She said to herself that the switch and a series of intricate god machines would ensure that her voice would be heard by all the cathars in the squadron.

Hespersen's low-level guards with light guns swarmed forward and rushed to the front of the entire squadron. They were the lowest level of cathars, only slightly better than technical war slaves.

These clones often need a strong voice to lead them on the battlefield due to their natural emotional defects and acquired emotional suppression surgery. Otherwise, these fearless warriors might all meet the glory of the God of Opportunity in a collective charge.

Insmara was that voice, but she wasn't any more—order after order emanated from her.

The Hespersons charged frantically, behind them were the shooter guards, and these heavy-fire operators could finally start to play their due role.

The orcs were beaten back steadily, and they couldn't figure out why the gunshots from the bunker stopped ringing. However, although they don't understand this, they also know that it is time to 'retreat'.

Without fire suppression, it is impossible for them to tear through the defense line formed by the cathars with their pure bodies. If any orc dared to foolishly use his own body to challenge the believer of the God of Chances, then the repeated cannons would tell it what the glory of steel is.

The advance distance of 500 meters was fleeting, and the squadron did not pay much, and took all the positions here when the orcs lost their fire suppression points. Fighter servants began to search the trenches to kill the orcs hiding in them, or to check for dangerous explosives.

As for Insmara herself, she had already arrived under the bunker.

"Hello, Father Insmara. I am Sergeant Eska."

An Astartes nodded calmly at her. He was wearing a blue-themed MK7 power armor, and had made some subtle changes that Insbella couldn't understand. A red fist was gleaming on his right shoulder plate.

"Hello, Sergeant Eska—may I ask which priest or tech sergeant modified your power armor?"

Insmara's first words were very suitable for her identity. This petite technical priest almost stared at Eska with fanatical eyes. To be precise, he stared at his power armor non-stop. Eska knew the reason, the composite shield was installed under the breastplate.

"Neither, Wenzhen made the modification for me. We are all like this."

"A pattern?"

"Yes, in your terms, it is a god-like machine with self-awareness - not what you imagined, Father Insmara, you can cancel the warm-up of the electromagnetic gun, it does not hate intelligence. "

Insmara calmly canceled the warm-up of the electromagnetic gun, and asked, "You seem to know a lot about abhorrent intelligence."

"When I first learned about the existence of the stripes, my performance was not much different from yours. So after doing some homework, I can assure you that the stripes are not those who hate intelligence. It is completely loyal to humans, and it is true The Earth was forged by the might of the Emperor."

There was no hesitation in Eska's voice, and he quickly got to the point: "So, can we leave for the foundry now?"

"Not yet, Sergeant Eska."

Insmara rejects his proposal, but not out of selfishness. She raised her hand, pulled the electromagnetic gun behind her, opened the back cover and began to overhaul it.

During the process, she said: "We have to wait a while, my cathars must completely clear this trench. Any orcs who are still alive must be completely killed, otherwise we will not leave this place." A land deeply wounded by them... look at the rough trenches, and the buildings they have destroyed."

There was some pain in her voice.

"This place originally contained the beauty of machinery, the pipelines and automatic cars on the ground... God of all machines, what kind of things have these orcs ruined them?"

Eska looked around and nodded in agreement with her. The ground of the batching factory they were in was completely ruined, and the transmission pipeline was damaged by the orcs. They pulled out the cables and tied them together, and did some work that they didn't even know about. The result was some orc corpses that had been electrocuted to charcoal.

Apparently, the cables themselves have done their revenge.

"I am sorry for the loss you have suffered, but we cannot stay here for too long. Compared with revenge, we have duties and tasks. Our duty to the Emperor is more important than revenge, Insema Abbe La."

"Yes, yes, I agree...this process won't last long, I assure you."

Insmara raised a finger, which was still stained with engine oil: "Five minutes at most."

There was burning anger in her eyes, and the mechanical priest obviously didn't realize that even his voice was filled with irreducible hatred when he spoke. Eska nodded slightly appreciatively—at least she wasn't selfish.

That's enough.

Before five minutes had arrived, Father Insmara signaled to Eska that they could go on their way. She kept her promise, which Eska appreciated. And have a higher expectation for the next joint cooperation. Mechanical priests are usually weirdos, and there are not many such reasonable ones.

On the way, the priest told them some precise information about the foundry in the communication channel.

"Foundry No. 73 is a special one among all foundries. It specializes in the production of various types of explosives, and the fragmentation grenades commonly known as 'elf' are the most popular on its production list. of that kind.”

"Because of this need, a fusion core was placed inside the No. 73 Foundry. The ultimate glory bestowed by the God of All Things, it is a drop of her blood, and it is one of the great things that we cannot yet understand. It can It provides foundries with unimaginably large amounts of energy, and as such, it is extremely dangerous."

"Before the war came to Sigma Ustari, we had to spend nine hours a day maintaining it. Because the energy contained in it was too dangerous and too huge. Dangerous and huge When words are superimposed, it is not as simple as one plus one equals two, Sergeant Eska."

Insmara said very solemnly: "We'd better pray to the God of Myriad Opportunities that it won't explode. Those orcs haven't been interested in it yet. Otherwise, everyone on the western front will die, and death is worthless." .and those odious orcs would be perfectly happy with that."

--------------------------------------

What happened to the Eska team was just a small microcosm, and the entire Sigma Ustari was caught in the flames of war. Crimson Fist only brought five companies, and the role that 500 people can play in such a war is limited.

Although they still have support from the Black Templar, the Black Templar is not an Ultramarine, and their expeditionary force is only 700 people.

Still, everyone felt they were sure to win.

Steve frowned tightly, and stared at the real-time updated battlefield sand table in the temporary headquarters that had just been raised for a long time, thinking for a long time: "Pedro, tell your first company to be more careful. The western battlefield they are in is not right. , there are too few orcs there."

"Understood, my lord."

Pedro nodded steadily and forcefully, stepped aside immediately and began issuing orders to his brother. At this moment, the door of the temporary headquarters was pushed open, and Sicarius walked in. He still smelled of blood and gunpowder smoke, and he had obviously just come down from the battlefield.

"My lord, the orcs near the command post have been completely cleared. The black templars are descending from orbit, and they have been delayed for a while. Our fortress is rising, and the orc corpses should be enough to consume its energy. "

"Okay, I see... Where is Ms. Liz?"

Sicarius took off his helmet, wiped the blood from the goggles, and replied, "She's left on our ship, communicating with Ridge. The location of the Faceripper is still under our control." , if it comes close to here, we will be warned."

"very good."

Steve nodded and walked out of the door of the temporary headquarters. Pedro and Sicarius looked at each other, and quickly followed. Although the scenery outside is not doomsday, it is not much different.

The sky was black and scarlet, and there was a violent tremor in the distance. The screams of the orcs drifted into their noses along the stench and the wind full of gunpowder smoke. The orbital bombing is not over, and the orbital bombing will never stop until the orcs are completely dead.

The ground is full of corpses piled up like a mountain, and some mechanical porters urgently produced by Wenzhen are moving their crawlers, using two long mechanical arms to carry the orc corpses into the deep pit dug in advance.

Orcs are a very troublesome race, even corpses. If it is not dealt with, more orcs will be born on their own corpses. Fortunately, the fortress can solve this problem, it will completely drain the energy contained in the corpse.

Make the most of everything. Steve thought wistfully.

He raised his head and stared at the devastated scene. As far as he could see, most of the Mechanic Order's creations had been destroyed.

Most of their architectural styles are extremely stacked and complicated, but their extreme computing power and pursuit of mechanical beauty can be revealed in such complex structures.

It's a pity that the orcs didn't understand this at all. They destroyed everything, and even splashed red paint in many places.

Pedro and Sicarius looked at Steve's back, they didn't know what he was thinking. They also didn't want to speculate, no matter how peaceful Steve was on weekdays, there was one thing that could never be concealed.

Steve Rogers, a Primarch.

He is not a mortal, not an Astartes, he is the noblest human being under the Emperor. He is a demigod, although he may not like the title himself. But actually, that's what it is.

He could face Nurgle, he wielded the Emperor's Sword of Fire, and with a wave of his hand he could fill the earth with golden flames, while the enemies of man could only scream in agony in the flames, and then a text Not worth dying.

Therefore, he must have thought carefully, and must have thought more than them—Pedro and Sicarius thought so, and they thought Steve was thinking about what to do next, how to fight the orcs more effectively.

Actually, no.

Steve was thinking about things they couldn't understand. In the concept of Pedro Canto and Cato Sicarius, war is something that can only be won by paying a certain price. It's like throwing a fist to hit someone, when the fist hits, the wrist itself will bear part of the reaction force.

This is unavoidable, almost equal to the law of nature. However, sometimes, the laws of nature will succumb to the power of human beings.

Steve didn't want the Crimson Fists and the Black Templars to suffer losses on this forge world, so he had to do something special.

Something rather crazy.

+ So that's what you planned, Steve... It seems that you and that guy Tony have learned badly, I thought you would build a shield and come out to knock the heads of the orcs one by one +

He Shenyan's smiling voice came from the other side of the void.

+ I'm not a fool, since there is a better way, why don't I use it? +

Steve shook his head helplessly.

+ How long did it take you to prepare the spell? +

+give me ten minutes+

On the other side of the void, a man in a black robe slowly opened his eyes.

"Funny, honest Steve Rogers would want me to do this..."

He grinned, not being surprised enough by what was happening in the Octarius sector. Bugs and orcs, dog eat dog. What really surprised him was Steve's determination.

Octarius was originally a remote sector, and almost the entire sector was occupied by orcs. These greenskins didn't even spare the asteroids, and built fortifications on them. If you still don't know what kind of concept this is, well, I have something to tell you.

The size of the Octarius sector is comparable to the home of the Ultramarines, that is to say, it is a five hundred worlds of Ultramar where every world is full of mushrooms.

It's been that way since the M32 Beast Invasion. Although officials from the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Ministry of Internal Affairs

They still proudly claim the Octarius sector as part of the Empire, and will always mark it as part of the Empire in their annual reports. But in fact, everyone knows that this is the territory of the orcs.

The Tyranid Hive Fleet's invasion of the orc territory sounds like a good thing for humans. It's a pity that there are a few real imperial worlds nearby, so the empire has no choice but to venture into this muddy water.

Back to the topic, Steve contacted him through psychic powers, and hoped that he could provide some small help—the answer He Shenyan gave was ten minutes.

So, ten minutes is enough for a mage to do to a whole planet of orcs?

The following is the answer given by He Shenyan. It is not very standard, but it is definitely the most effective.

In the first step, He Shenyan closed his eyes, connected his mental power to the Astronomican, and led him through countless light years to reach the foundry world of Sigma Ustari.

The second step is to search and send.

Inscribe, mark, search. The main target is the orc's DNA, and the teleportation spell that he is so familiar with is urged by him with all his strength, but this time the target is not human beings. It's the orcs all over the planet.

The third step is to open a subspace portal next to it, and set the teleportation location to Chaos Wasteland of Khorne.

The fourth step is to throw all the orcs into it.

After doing all this, his face turned pale—the laws of the world cannot be changed, and the existence of subspace itself is a hindrance to teleportation spells. He can't change this rule, but fortunately he doesn't have to care about the safety of the teleportation object this time.

At the same time, a gloomy but joyful voice came into his ears: "What do you mean, mage?"

"I'll give you a gift, you're welcome, Khorne." He Shenyan said with a smile. "After all, you were beaten up by the two of us last time, I know that."

Khorne snorted coldly, she was the first evil god to get mixed up in her role. The description used by the mage is a bit miserable, but the actual situation is actually much more serious. Of course, Khorne would not just hand over Angron's soul. She steadfastly ignored the threat of the Emperor and the mage, and simply went to war with the two in her kingdom of God.

There are many consequences, the most conspicuous one should be her chair. Half of the brass throne disappeared directly, and the volume of the skull wasteland shrank to only one-third of its original size.

"Sooner or later I shall recover the debt--but you are very good at my favor, and I will come back to you at a later date."

She yelled, "These orcs... yes, although you have bad intentions, they did make a good war for me. Rejoice, mage, you and that rotten old man You can live for a while longer.”

He Shenyan smiled strangely, and didn't even bother to talk to her.

There is a slightly insulting saying that those who believe in Khorne are idiots. Although this sentence is not very logical, and it is easy for a lot of Khorne berserkers to come to you, but in fact, it can be changed, instead of Drop some prefix nouns.

That way, it should be more realistic.

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Helbrecht stared blankly at Steve Rogers in front of him.

"I-I don't understand, my lord. We landed only a little later than you, but you say the war is over?"

He blinked and made an extremely complicated expression: "...you wiped out the orcs on the entire planet in one Terra time?"

"No, no, you misunderstood, Grand Marshal. I'm not that capable. I just asked for a little help."

Steve smiled, but Helbrecht's expression was becoming more and more complicated. The Crimson Fists at least killed some orcs and had a little fun. They got nothing.

——He subconsciously ignored the maniacal laughter with the black templars when he personally manipulated the pattern array to blast the orc battleship into pieces.

Helbrecht sighed: "My lord, I won't ask you why you did this. So, what should we do now?"

"Don't worry, Supreme Marshal, your chance to fight will come, even soon."

Steve said patiently, "As for what we're going to do now... tell me, Supreme Marshal, what do you think of hunting?"

"Waiting reasonably, paying a small price, and winning big."

Helbrecht's descriptive style fits his personality well.

Steve nodded: "That's right - our hunt is not over yet, Graka the Faceripper is still on his way to Octarius. It will definitely pass by the Messenger of Faith and Sigma Uth Tully. We have to take this opportunity to seize it and find out the specifics of the Octarius sector."

From this sentence, Helbrecht keenly sensed something different.

Find out the specific situation of the Octarius sector?

After a short thought, his eyes began to brighten. Steve knew what he was thinking when he saw his expression, and he smiled: "Don't get excited, Supreme Marshal. Yes, it's what you think...but don't say it, okay? I don't want everyone to know about my plans yet."

Helbrecht originally planned to yell loudly about the Emperor, but it was a pity that Steve's words disrupted his plan.

He shouted in a low voice and excitedly: "The Emperor is above!"

Steve smiled helplessly.

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