Holding an iron bucket, Roya walked up to the black-and-white square cow and aimed the bucket directly at its belly.
With a thought.
“Pop.” A crisp sound effect rang out, and the empty iron bucket instantly became full.
A bucket of pure white, translucent [Milk] with a faint milky fragrance landed in Roya’s inventory.
“With this, Nurgle’s plague is nothing to fear.” A satisfied smile touched the corner of Roya’s mouth, but then his brows furrowed slightly.
“However, one bucket isn’t enough.
If I want a steady supply of milk, I’ll need to build a pasture.
To breed cows, I need to feed them wheat, but in this barren Underhive, where am I going to get dirt and grass seeds?” Just as Roya was pondering how to kick off the agricultural era, a deafening warcry interrupted his thoughts.
“Waaagh!!!” Waves of furious sound swept in once more from the depths of the Underhive ruins.
The greenskins were back.
This time, however, Roya didn’t even need to step forward with sword in hand himself.
“For the Emperor!
For that Lord!” Accompanied by a roar from Carn and Chapter Master Foros, the Lamenters Chapter—no longer what they once were—charged forward to meet the enemy.
Eighty elite veterans clad in off-white [indomitus-pattern terminator armour] slammed straight into the tide of greenskins like an impassable wall of steel.
Closely following them were over three hundred Space Marines clad in brand-new Mk VII “Aquila” power armor.
Free from their past stinginess and fear of damaging their gear, this group of Space Marines—long labeled as “unlucky”—burst forth with terrifying destructive power.
The roaring of the Bolters merged into an airtight thunderstorm.
In the rear positions, “Villagers” like Titus and Silas were crafting bolt shells like emotionless assembly line machines.
The front lines had a virtually infinite ammo supply!
The charge the greenskins took pride in ground to a complete halt before the absolute web of firepower and the absurd armor of the Terminators.
Swaths of Ork Boyz fell like harvested wheat, their dark green blood gathering into rivers.
Standing in the rear, Roya saw the experience bar at the bottom of his vision surging at a rate visible to the naked eye.
[Ding!][Ding!][Ding!] Crisp sound effects of absorbing experience rang out continuously in his head.
The greenskins slaughtered by Carn and Foros, who were bound as “Villagers” by the system, contributed massive amounts of experience points, supplemented by the EXP from the mob spawner tower and witch tower.
In just over ten minutes, Roya’s experience skyrocketed, coming to a steady halt at Level 25!
“Huge profit.” A sharp gleam flashed in Roya’s eyes.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked toward the Astra Militarum formation, scanning them with a sharp gaze before pointing out five veterans who looked the most experienced and nimble.
“You five, step forward!” Roya issued the command in his mind, consuming 25 levels of experience in one go.
Dazzling, divine golden light erupted from inside Roya once more, enveloping the five mortal veterans.
As the light faded, icons of slowly rotating dirt blocks appeared out of thin air above their heads.
Instantly, an expression of absolute fanaticism and obedience to Roya filled their eyes.
“My Lord!
Please give your orders!” The five saluted in unison.
“Take over for Titus and Silas, and craft ammo relentlessly according to the recipe.” Roya pointed to the row of workbenches behind them, then turned and shouted at Titus and the others who were hauling bricks, “Titus, Silas!
Stop what you’re doing!
Get to the front lines!
Don’t waste such a great opportunity to farm EXP on logistics!” “As you command, Lord!” Titus had long been unable to hold back.
Wearing his terminator armor and drawing his iron sword, he pounced into the battlefield like a tiger released from its cage.
Roya cracked his neck and gripped the iron sword in his hand.
“I should step in and stretch my legs too.” Roya strode into the battlefield.
At that moment, a dull mechanical roar resounded from the rear of the greenskin horde.
An enormously bulky Mega-Armoured Nob, draped in heavy scrap-metal armor, stepped forward with earth-shattering strides.
But what made Roya’s gaze instantly grow solemn were the four hunks of metal accompanying the Mega-Armoured Nob.
Three of them were cylindrical, small bipedal walkers wielding buzzsaws and heavy machine guns—[Killer Kans].
Walking in the very center was a heavy bipedal walker, even larger than a Terminator, fitted with four deadly mechanical arms and possessing an exceedingly crude, terrifying appearance—a [Deff Dread]!
“They’ve even built Killer Kans and Deff Dreads…” Roya’s gaze hardened.
This meant that “Mekboyz” and “Painboyz” had already appeared in the greenskin army.
If they didn’t hurry and wipe out these greenskins, given enough time, these absurd xenos would definitely craft a Titan-class “Stompa” right here!
“Crush da umies!” The Gretchin piloting the Killer Kans let out sharp, bizarre cackles, driving their mechs wildly into the fray.
Right then, a massive off-white figure shot out from the flank like a cannonball.
It was Titus!
He slammed brutally into one of the Killer Kans.
“Bang—Crack!” The immensely violent kinetic energy directly smashed that cobbled-together scrap-metal Killer Kan into pieces.
The Gretchin inside didn’t even get to scream before being crushed into a paste by the sheer mass of the Terminator armor.
Seeing this, Roya couldn’t help but inwardly praise him: “As expected of Titus the God, what a beast!” On the other side, that massive Deff Dread had already breached the Space Marine lines.
Brandishing a huge hydraulic claw, it delivered a brutal slap that sent a Lamenter wearing Mk VII power armor flying.
The Lamenter slammed heavily onto the metal floor, and before he could get up, the Deff Dread took a heavy step with its mechanical leg, bringing down a massive metal foot capable of flattening ceramite.
“Don’t even think about it!” At the critical moment, Roya rushed into the battlefield.
Reverse-gripping the blocky pixel iron sword with both hands, he met the stomping metal foot of the Deff Dread and forced it up from below.
“Clang—Boom!” The loud clash of metal was deafening.
Yet this greenskin killing machine, on par with a Space Marine Dreadnought, was blocked dead in its tracks by Roya’s absurd MC strength, unable to press down even a millimeter further!
“Nothing special.” Roya sneered, his arm muscles bursting with power, forcibly shoving the Deff Dread’s massive leg aside.
Taking advantage of the moment its balance was disrupted, the iron sword in Roya’s right hand brought forth a shrill howl of wind, brutally striking the load-bearing knee joint of the Deff Dread without any fluff.
“Bang!” Red light flashed violently.
Under MC’s absolute damage calculation, the thick hydraulic metal leg snapped straight in half.
The massive Deff Dread lost its balance and crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Can I mine this thing?” Roya stashed the iron sword back into his inventory with a reverse grip and switched to a brand-new [iron pickaxe] at lightspeed.
Stepping onto the Deff Dread’s shell, he swung the iron pickaxe and began furiously mining the thick scrap-metal armor.
“Clang!
Clang!
Clang!” With every stroke of the pickaxe, a vast pattern of black grid-like cracks spread across the Deff Dread’s surface.
The Ork Boy piloting inside clearly panicked, manipulating the remaining mechanical arm and swinging a giant power claw in an attempt to slice Roya to pieces.
“Don’t you dare hurt the Lord!” A bright yellow figure rushed over.
Chapter Master Foros gripped his iron sword with both hands, his blade locking firmly against the wild power claw.
“Good job, Foros.” Without even raising his head, Roya swung the iron pickaxe into an afterimage.
As the final heavy blow fell.
“Pop.” An extremely crisp sound effect rang out.
The Deff Dread, like a giant steel beast, instantly dissolved into a puff of white smoke and vanished.
A glowing mechanical fragment model drifted down in midair.
Where the mech had vanished, a muscular Ork Boy with several rusty pipes stuck in his body fell out with a thud.
The Ork Boy hit the ground hard, completely failing to process what had just happened.
He sat there dazed, looking around at the empty space and then at his intact hands, before suddenly screaming at the top of his lungs in excitement: “Waaagh!!
I’m out!
I actually got out!” Having just stashed the fragment into his inventory, Roya couldn’t help but burst out laughing upon hearing his shout.
He recalled a dark joke from the Warhammer community in his past life—just like Space Marine Dreadnoughts, Ork Deff Dreads had their pilots stuffed inside against their will.
Ninety-nine percent of Ork Boyz were knocked out cold with a club by Painboyz and forcefully stuffed into those scrap-metal cans.
“Sorry, even though you got out, you still have to die.” Roya wiped the smile off his face, switched to his iron sword, and brought it down cleanly in one strike, smashing the still-ecstatic Ork Boy’s head to pieces.
“That’s one down.
Leave the rest to me—push forward faster!” Roya then looked down at the fragment he had just obtained.
“Holy crap, this is good stuff!” The fragment that just dropped was actually a Dreadnought Fragment!