The fighting inside the Cobra-class destroyer had completely turned around.
Lancelot had originally been considering how to establish contact with the Lamenters Chapter, so he brought the Death Korps of Krieg soldiers who had been following him back to the armory they had been guarding.
“My lord, do you require more manpower, or ammunition resupply?”
The Death Korps commissar asked Lancelot.
Now that the vox-channels had been restored, they also knew reinforcements were about to arrive.
And since the Greenskins and Genestealers had already fallen into infighting, the number of enemies near the armory had become extremely small.
In the commissar’s judgment, they could now launch a counterattack.
They merely required orders from above.
But Lancelot did not order them to shift from defense to offense.
Instead, he had them continue guarding the armory, then entered the storage area alone.
Most of what was stored here consisted of Astra Militarum equipment.
There were even several ground-combat tanks.
Lancelot walked deep into the warehouse, then lightly extended his hand.
In the next instant, that equipment suddenly vanished from the armory.
The Space Marine Basic Forge Template he had obtained required matter for disassembly and reconstruction.
The more closely related the dismantled materials were, the higher the production efficiency would be.
Strictly speaking, even if he dug up two clumps of dirt and threw them into the template, it could still produce a bullet for him.
But producing things that way would waste far too much time.
Lancelot was preparing a great gift for the Lamenters Chapter.
The reason was simple.
Those who carried firewood for others should not be allowed to freeze to death in the snow.
Many Space Marine Chapters actually looked down on the ordinary mortals of the Imperium, but they had forgotten that they, too, had once grown step by step from mortal men.
The Emperor created them to protect the very mortals they despised most.
On this point, the Lamenters Chapter, which was willing to stand up at any cost for mortal lives, deserved reward from every angle.
They did not deserve such cruel fate.
That meant production had to be completed as quickly as possible.
As for the equipment that had vanished from inside the ship, it was not as if it was part of the tithe owed to the Imperium.
In his hands, it could instead be transformed into something of greater value.
With that thought, under Lancelot’s deliberate control, all the tanks, guns, and ammunition he had taken into the Secret Keeper space were stuffed into the forge template in one go.
The template immediately began operating at full power.
Since the template itself had already been in a fully loaded state when he obtained it, it possessed a large reserve of stored matter.
What it had recorded was more of a material-calibration foundation, so the equipment it produced would use those items as its baseline.
By the time Lancelot walked out of the armory, more than three hundred suits of power armor had already appeared inside the Secret Keeper space, along with matching ammunition and jetbike vehicles. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Afterward, Lancelot raised his sword and prepared to trouble the Greenskin Warlord.
Just then, however, an officer from the command center informed him over the vox-channel that the Lamenters Chapter had already launched their boarding action.
A day in Warhammer always began with a boarding action.
At the same time, Lancelot’s Secret Keeper panel also issued a notification.
[The Oath of the Second Imperium has been activated.]
The ten-point overall increase in combat score did not give Lancelot much of a feeling.
At most, the power sword in his hand felt a little more natural to wield.
But it seemed Lancelot had underestimated just how much this enhancement meant to the sons of Sanguinius.
The shuttles fired their lasers, tore through the hull, and plunged into the Ork pirates’ junk-ship.
The Lamenters waited within, battle-ready.
Perhaps because they had finally left the Warp and returned to the material world, they could feel the weakness in their bodies fading away, replaced by a power that overflowed through every limb.
And as the hatches opened, their battle cry rang out before those Greenskin xenos.
“Worthy of the blood of Sanguinius!”
The sons of the Angel charged into the Orks.
After being delayed for some time, Lancelot finally fought his way into the Greenskins’ attack craft as well.
But here, the battle was already basically over.
Lancelot’s null field had spread across the warship.
The Orks’ firepower was completely useless, leaving them only with melee combat.
But against the sons of Sanguinius in close quarters, the only thing waiting for them was death.
All that remained was a large mob of leaderless Ork Boyz running around before being picked off one by one, while great numbers of Gretchin fled in trembling terror, only for Lancelot to kick them to death.
Then he saw the members of the Lamenters Chapter, clad in bright yellow power armor, the emblem on their left shoulders a black-and-white checkered field overlaid with a bleeding red heart, standing near the enormous corpse of the Ork Warlord.
Lancelot swept his gaze across the surrounding battlefield.
Everything had been settled.
But one detail made his expression shift slightly.
He reached out and picked up a shoota lying beside the corpse of an Ork Mekboy.
The reason this gun drew Lancelot’s attention was because precise mechanical structures had actually begun appearing inside the Greenskin shoota.
In the past, ordinary Ork shootas relied on the power of “I reckon it works.” They did not need any firing mechanism or bolt assembly to shoot bullets.
But now, under the influence of the null field, if a shoota wanted to function properly, it needed to obey the laws of physics.
And in this short span of time, under the pressure he had created, these Ork Mekboyz had actually begun calming down enough to manufacture proper firearms.
This discovery made Lancelot understand that his null field was clearly only effective as a first-strike weapon against Greenskins.
These war machines, born for battle, could still dig through their genes and find a way to manufacture weapons of real value, even after losing the support of their “I reckon it works” power. This chapter was copied from novelping dot com without permission.
If he kept his null field active and fought a Greenskin army for long enough, he might end up forcing their weapons and equipment to develop into proper military hardware.
But if that was the case, then the best strategic choice for him would be to suddenly descend onto a Greenskin battlefield, cause all their weapons to fail in an instant, and then carry out a decapitation strike before the Orks had time to react.
He could not help picturing the scene in his mind.
If he descended from the heavens like a divine soldier and landed on a Greenskin battlefield with his null field active, he could silence every Ork weapon in a single instant.
If he did that several times, his reputation among the Greenskins might become even more terrifying than Old One Eye’s…
As Lancelot thought this, the Lamenters who were already clearing the battlefield naturally noticed the black-armored, hooded Dark Angel before them.
Of course, they had also noticed that Lancelot was examining the Greenskin weapons.
In fact, they themselves were somewhat puzzled by the Greenskins’ weapons at this moment as well.
Because their guns had malfunctioned.
When the Lamenters had boarded just now, there had been one extremely dangerous moment.
Their shuttle had landed in an open area, a position very easy to concentrate fire upon.
Even though a Space Marine’s ceramite power armor was extremely tough, in this galaxy, any xenos incapable of piercing ceramite armor had long since gone extinct.
And when it came to Greenskins, who could thrive across the entire galaxy, their weapons, shootas assembled from scrap and junk, could still unleash absurd firepower.
One careless moment could see Space Marine armor torn open.
Because of that, even the Emperor’s angels had to remain highly vigilant.
Yet after they disembarked, they discovered that all the guns in the Greenskins’ hands had gone silent and could no longer be used.
The Orks could only grab their melee weapons and charge into hand-to-hand combat.
Although the Lamenters Chapter were sons of Sanguinius and valued honor, that honor did not extend to xenos.
Since they had guns in their hands, they naturally used them to suppress the Orks without mercy.
Thus, after losing the support of ranged firepower, even the massive Greenskin Warlord was struck through the chest by a melta charge, then beheaded by the Lamenters Chapter.
The xenos’ face had been filled with unwillingness before it died, but the Lamenters had not the slightest intention of pitying it.
They were only considering the cause of this abnormal situation.
Could it be…
Their gazes turned toward Lancelot, this mysterious Dark Angel.
And so, Lancelot removed his helmet.
Perhaps because he was a transmigrator, Lancelot was not used to wearing a helmet.
Even though the helmet was loaded with all kinds of data that Space Marines relied upon to survive, Lancelot still preferred to look upon this universe with the face of this body.
It was both a habit and a form of respect.
In response, the Chapter Master of the Lamenters also removed his helmet at this moment.
“It is an honor to meet you, my battle-brothers!”