The fragment disappeared into Roya’s inventory.
He immediately opened the Knowledge Book.
A new entry appeared.
[Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought Fragment] Collect 10 fragments to synthesize: [Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought Manufacturing Blueprint] “Ten fragments…” Roya repeated the number before shaking his head with a smile.
The Contemptor Dreadnought was no ordinary war machine.
It originated during the Dark Age of Technology and had been one of the Imperium’s greatest achievements during the Great Crusade.
Equipped with advanced atomantic shielding and numerous technologies that had long since been lost, every surviving Contemptor was considered a priceless Chapter relic.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had spent ten thousand years searching for fragments of Standard Template Constructs, yet countless technologies remained forever lost.
Meanwhile…
All Roya had to do was gather enough fragments.
Stand before a Crafting Table.
Click.
A brand-new Contemptor would be produced.
“…What a wonderful system.” Roya couldn’t help smiling.
“The only problem is the drop rate.” “I’ll have to farm a lot more bosses.” Before the thought had fully formed— Heavy mechanical footsteps echoed across the battlefield.
The ground trembled.
Roya looked up.
The armored Ork Warboss charged toward him.
Unlike the previous Warbosses…
This one didn’t rush in recklessly.
Its body remained low.
Its massive Power Klaw dragged along the ground.
Its crimson eyes never left Roya.
“This one’s smarter.” Roya tightened his grip on the Iron Sword.
“It’s actually looking for an opening.” The two charged simultaneously.
Without hesitation, Roya slashed toward the Warboss’s ribs.
The Warboss twisted sideways.
The blade narrowly missed.
Instead of counterattacking immediately…
Its Power Klaw merely brushed across Roya’s shoulder.
Testing.
Measuring.
Feeling the weight behind Roya’s movements.
Roya immediately pushed backward, widening the distance.
Neither side had committed fully.
Both were probing.
Nearby, the Lamenters and the Imperial Guardsmen continued battling the remaining Orks without interfering.
By now, everyone understood Roya’s fighting style.
Helping him usually caused more trouble than it solved.
Roya attacked again.
This time…
He intentionally slowed his strike.
The Warboss’s eyes lit up.
It lunged forward.
The center of its Power Klaw suddenly opened.
A hidden nozzle emerged.
WHOOSH!
A torrent of burning promethium erupted.
The distance was too short.
Roya had no time to react.
Every remaining heart instantly vanished.
White smoke engulfed him.
Beside the respawn bed…
Roya suddenly opened his eyes.
He stared blankly for two seconds.
“…A hidden flamer.” “Now that’s dirty.” Moments later— Two flashes of light appeared beside him.
Titus.
Then Phoros.
Both had also respawned.
Clearly…
They had fallen shortly after Roya.
Titus rubbed his helmet.
“My lord.” “It breathes fire.” “I noticed.” Roya had already opened the Crafting Table.
“I completely forgot about shields.” As someone who normally spent his time mining and building…
He rarely crafted one.
Click.
Three Shields appeared.
Roya tossed one to each of them.
“Left hand.” “Keep your shields raised.” “They’ll block the flames.” “I’ll deal with its head.” Without waiting another second…
He sprinted back toward the battlefield.
The Warboss still stood where it had been.
Smoke continued drifting from the nozzle concealed inside its Power Klaw.
Seeing the three humans return…
It immediately unleashed another torrent of fire.
Titus stepped forward first.
His Shield rose.
The flames slammed into its surface.
Not a single spark reached his armor.
The Warboss narrowed its eyes.
That tiny hesitation…
Lasted less than half a second.
Roya stepped onto Titus’s shield.
Then onto his shoulder.
Launching himself high into the air— His Iron Sword descended diagonally toward the Warboss’s neck.
Bang!
Dark green blood erupted.
The Warboss’s enormous head rolled across the floor.
Roya landed lightly.
Waiting for the familiar white particles.
Instead…
Nothing happened.
The headless body remained standing.
Not only that— It swung its Power Klaw again.
The attacks remained surprisingly accurate.
It fought as though it still possessed a head.
Roya dodged before looking toward the severed head lying several meters away.
“…Seriously?” “Your body’s still fighting?” He couldn’t help staring.
“What kind of nervous system do Orks have?” “What exactly did the Old Ones put into their genes?” An Ork Boy charged toward him.
Roya casually kicked it aside.
Then rushed back toward the headless Warboss.
His Iron Sword struck twice against its shoulder joint.
At the same moment— Phoros grabbed its left arm.
Titus tackled its legs.
Working together…
The three forced the gigantic body onto the ground.
For the next several seconds…
The battlefield echoed with the brutal sounds of disassembly.
Finally…
The corpse stopped moving.
Its body flickered.
Then dissolved into white particles.
Two pale gray fragments slowly floated downward.
Roya picked them up immediately.
Obtained: Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought Fragment Current Total: 3 / 10 “Three already.” Roya smiled.
“Not bad.” With the Warboss dead…
The remaining Orks immediately lost the support of the local Waaagh!
The horde descended into chaos.
Some fled.
Others began fighting among themselves.
“Phoros.” “Kahn.” “Titus.” “Lead the pursuit.” “Don’t let them regroup.” “Understood!” The three immediately led the Space Marines deeper into the ruins.
Roya looked toward his experience bar.
Level 35.
Without hesitation…
He selected seven veteran Imperial Guardsmen.
“You.” “Step forward.” Golden light descended once again.
Moments later…
Seven tiny Grass Blocks floated above their heads.
Conversion complete.
Roya pointed toward the nearby pile of Terminator Armor.
“Equip yourselves.” “Then reinforce the pursuit.” The seven men rushed toward the armor with unbelievable speed.
Watching them…
The Techmarine’s optical sensors flashed wildly while streams of binary praise poured continuously from his vox-speakers.
Roya ignored him.
He was already accustomed to the Techmarine’s newfound religious enthusiasm.
Soon…
The newly reinforced force disappeared into the tunnels.
Roya shifted his attention toward the Mob Farm and Witch Farm.
Resources continued accumulating steadily.
Three Contemptor fragments.
Seven more to go.
There was no need to rush.
More elite enemies would appear eventually.
Just as he began planning the next expansion— Silas hurried over from the rear tunnels.
His expression was unusually grim.
“My lord.” “The communications team intercepted an Adeptus Mechanicus transmission.” Roya immediately looked up.
“What happened?” One Hundred Kilometers Away Deep within the underhive’s waste-processing sector…
Dim yellow emergency lights cast long shadows across rusted corridors.
Endless ranks of Poxwalkers poured from ruptured pipelines.
Their bloated bodies oozed pus.
Their decaying flesh spread Nurgle’s corruption through the stagnant air.
Holding the line against them…
Was an Adeptus Mechanicus recovery force.
Skitarii Rangers fired disciplined volleys while Combat Servitors and Kastelan Robots struggled to maintain a shrinking defensive perimeter.
The Magos leading the expedition shouted through his vox-amplifiers.
“Move!” “Move faster!” “They must not reach the relic!” Behind him…
More than a dozen Servitors surrounded a massive armored container wrapped in heavy insulation and stabilization fields.
Even through the protective coverings…
Its enormous silhouette was unmistakable.
A Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought.
Recently excavated from the forgotten depths beneath the hive.
Its Machine Spirit had slumbered for millennia.
Though scarred by age…
Its frame remained astonishingly intact.
The Magos checked the tactical display before signaling the convoy forward.
A nearby Tech-Priest suddenly turned.
His mechanical voice trembled.
“Magos…” “Our retreat route has been cut off.” “We’re surrounded.”