Kahn stared fixedly at the brand-new power armor worn by Roya and Titus.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
“Lord Roya…” His voice was unusually tense.
“Can…
ordinary humans wear this armor as well?” The moment those words left his mouth, the surroundings fell silent.
Commissar Silas, standing nearby, instinctively looked over.
The weary Imperial Guardsmen also turned their attention toward Roya.
Hope flickered in every pair of exhausted eyes.
The Imperial Guard existed to hold the line with flesh and blood.
If ordinary soldiers could wear the legendary power armor of the Adeptus Astartes…
They would no longer be helpless before the endless Ork tide.
They might even be able to fight back.
Roya swept his gaze across the soldiers.
He immediately understood what they were thinking.
“Not yet.” His calm voice shattered their expectations.
“For ordinary humans to use this armor, an extremely demanding prerequisite must first be fulfilled.” “With my current resources…” “It’s impossible.” Converting someone into a Minecraft Villager required experience levels.
Transforming Titus had completely emptied his experience reserve.
His level was currently a miserable 0.
Disappointment flashed across Kahn’s face before he quickly suppressed it.
Silas wisely remained silent.
Neither of them intended to question miracles bestowed by the Emperor.
Roya ignored their reactions.
Instead, he turned toward Titus.
“You stay here.” Titus blinked.
“Sir?” “The Witch Farm has a loading radius.” Roya pointed toward the Witch Farm behind them.
“Someone has to remain within one hundred and twenty-eight blocks.” “Otherwise, the witches will stop spawning.” That was one of Minecraft’s fundamental mechanics.
Mob farms only functioned while chunks remained loaded by nearby players—or, in this world, system-bound Villagers.
“I understand.” Titus nodded without hesitation.
Standing beside the collection chest, he rested his Iron Sword against his shoulder.
Roya walked over.
Summoning his Crafting Table, he removed several iron ingots and wooden planks from his inventory.
Working in front of Titus, he rapidly crafted several Iron Swords and Iron Pickaxes.
“Watch carefully.” He handed the tools over.
“This is how the Crafting Table works.” “Arrange the materials correctly.” “The tools will craft themselves.” “If yours break…” “Make replacements yourself.” Thanks to his Villager template, Titus instinctively understood the seemingly impossible crafting process.
He nodded solemnly.
“I won’t disappoint you, sir.” Time slowly passed.
Above the Witch Farm…
Witches continuously spawned before falling into the killing chamber below.
Redstone Dust and glowing experience orbs steadily accumulated.
Roya stood beside the collection system, absorbing the experience.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
One familiar notification after another echoed through his mind.
His experience level gradually rose.
Level 1.
Level 2.
Finally…
Level 3.
Just then— Hurried footsteps echoed from a nearby tunnel.
A blood-soaked Imperial Guardsman stumbled out of the darkness before collapsing at Commissar Silas’s feet.
Panting desperately, he shouted, “Commissar!” “The front line has fallen!” “The main Ork force is attacking!” “There are three Ork Bosses!” Silas’s expression immediately changed.
Kahn instinctively gripped the chainsword at his waist.
His helmet lenses burned crimson.
“Move.” Roya immediately closed his inventory.
Storing away the Crafting Table, he strode toward the tunnel.
Titus followed close behind.
The group rushed through the winding underhive passages before emerging back onto the battlefield.
Everyone stopped.
Before them…
A sea of green stretched as far as the eye could see.
Countless Ork Boyz flooded every street and corridor.
Wielding crude shootas and brutal choppas, they surged forward without fear, trampling over their own dead as they assaulted the Imperium’s final defensive line.
Behind the endless horde stood three towering Ork Bosses.
Each exceeded three meters in height.
Each wore crude armor cobbled together from scavenged metal.
One wielded an enormous power klaw.
Another carried a roaring chainaxe.
The last brandished a gigantic choppa.
Every roar they unleashed drove the surrounding Orks into an even greater frenzy.
The Imperial Guardsmen were being slaughtered.
Against such overwhelming numbers…
Lasgun fire barely slowed the tide.
Roya stopped.
Instead of charging immediately, he reached into his inventory.
Two Beds appeared in his hands.
Thunk.
He placed a red bed directly onto the bloodstained steel floor.
Kahn and Silas stared blankly.
On a battlefield where death lurked around every corner…
Their commander had…
Placed a bed?
Roya calmly lay down.
A second later, he stood back up.
A familiar notification appeared.
[Respawn Point Set] He looked toward Titus.
“Your turn.” Without asking questions, Titus lay on the second bed before immediately standing again.
[Villager Titus Respawn Point Updated] Roya nodded in satisfaction.
“Good.” He drew his Iron Sword.
Stretching his neck slightly, he smiled.
“Let’s begin.” The moment he finished speaking— His legs exploded with power.
Without the roar of servo motors…
The Mk VII Aquila Power Armor accelerated instantly.
Roya became nothing more than a blue streak hurtling toward the Ork horde.
Titus followed immediately behind.
“For the Emperor!” “For Ultramar!” He charged directly into the enemy.
An Ork Boy roared as it swung its choppa downward.
Titus didn’t dodge.
His Iron Sword swept casually across.
Bang!
Instead of slicing through flesh…
The Minecraft damage mechanic activated.
The Ork flashed bright red.
Its massive body flew backward before crashing into several more Boyz.
Dead.
One hit.
One kill.
Titus continued moving.
Like a tiger charging into a flock of sheep.
His Iron Sword rose and fell repeatedly.
Every swing sent another Ork flying.
Bodies collapsed one after another.
Behind them…
Kahn stood completely speechless.
He knew Titus better than anyone.
The young Scout hadn’t even completed all of his gene-seed implantation surgeries.
Even with power armor…
He should never have possessed such terrifying combat ability.
Yet that crude, blocky Iron Sword…
Was proving even deadlier than a master-crafted chainsword.
Commissar Silas slowly walked to Kahn’s side.
His voice trembled.
“Sergeant…” “Lord Roya…” “…what exactly is he?” Kahn silently watched the blue figure carving a path through thousands of Orks.
Finally, he answered quietly, “It doesn’t matter.” “As long as he uses that power to destroy the enemies of mankind…” “He is the Emperor’s weapon.” Meanwhile— At the center of the battlefield— Roya had already broken through the frontline Ork Boyz.
Only the three Ork Bosses remained.
“WAAAGH!!!” The largest Boss immediately noticed him.
With a deafening roar, the giant Ork charged.
Its massive power klaw tore through the air with terrifying speed.
Roya advanced instead of retreating.
He raised his left arm.
The armored gauntlet caught the power klaw at the wrist.
Boom!
The impact shattered the steel floor beneath them.
Cracks spread across the deck in every direction.
“First strike.” Roya’s voice was calm.
His Iron Sword flashed upward.
Bang!
The blade struck beneath the Ork Boss’s jaw.
The Boss flashed red.
Its enormous body was launched into the air.
Its chest lay completely exposed.
Roya twisted at the waist.
Leaping upward, he delivered a second strike.
Bang!
The Iron Sword smashed into the Boss’s chest.
Bones shattered.
The Boss staggered backward, coughing dark green blood.
For the first time…
Fear appeared in its savage eyes.
“Die.” The instant Roya landed, he launched himself forward again.
His Iron Sword thrust in a perfectly straight line.
No flourish.
No wasted motion.
Only absolute precision.
Bang!
The third strike landed squarely across the Boss’s neck.
The Ork Boss froze.
Its body flashed crimson.
Then— It collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
The battlefield fell silent once more.