The illumination lights in the Underhive ruins flickered with dim yellow light.
Foros walked over with heavy steps, followed by four carefully selected veterans of the Lamenters.
Roya glanced at the experience bar at the bottom of his vision, where the number stopped at twenty.
Without any pause, he issued an internal command.
Ten levels of experience were instantly deducted.
A golden light erupted from Roya’s body, enveloping the four veterans.
After a few seconds, the light receded, and slowly rotating grass block icons appeared above the heads of the four men.
“Leave the rear area to you.
You can slowly expand the wheat fields,” Roya pointed to the adjacent wheat field.
Foros immediately stepped forward.
This Chapter Master, who had experienced countless mountains of corpses and seas of blood, squatted halfway on the ground and demonstrated with extreme meticulousness: “Punch the mature wheat to shatter it.
Pick up the seeds.
Plant them back into the soil with your hands.
Sprinkle bone meal.
Remember this rhythm; this is the foundation of the Chapter’s future rise.” The four veterans wore solemn expressions.
Without raising any questions, they immediately dispersed.
One harvested, another replanted, and the other two were solely responsible for scattering bone meal.
The visual effects of wheat growth flickered continuously in the ruins.
In less than half an hour, mountains of bread were delivered into the wooden chests in the rear.
Noisy footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
Karn and Titus returned with the main force.
The Space Marines and Astra Militarum formed a defensive formation, guarding thousands of ragged civilians in the middle, along with a batch of surviving Planetary Defense Force soldiers.
The Orks were completely wiped out, and this area was temporarily safe.
“Karn, Titus,” Roya strode over, “Rest canceled.
Take men, grab all the stone materials, and go fill this open space with water-flowing mob grinders.
The materials are in the chests; get them yourselves.
Build it according to my previous blueprints.” “As you command, my lord.” Karn acknowledged the order and immediately turned around to reorganize the troops.
Blocks were continuously crafted and placed.
Water poured down from the top of the towers.
This area of the Underhive ruins completely transformed into a large-scale industrial zone that defied physical logic.
Time skipped forward by a day.
Over a hundred twenty-two-block-high square stone towers rose from the ground, neatly arranged.
In the collection chests at the bottom of the towers, rotten flesh, bones, and spider string accumulated to a terrifying amount.
As soon as experience points were produced, Roya converted them into Villagers; by now, there were already over two hundred Villagers.
Roya did not stop.
He led Titus to fence off a huge metal clearing behind the tower cluster, enclosed entirely by wooden fences.
Inside, it was densely packed with black-and-white square cows.
“Feed them with wheat.” Roya shoved a stack of wheat into Titus’s hands.
Titus walked into the cow pen.
Holding the wheat in his hands, whenever two cows approached, he fed one to each.
Red hearts popped up above the heads of the two cows, and a few seconds later, a miniature calf appeared out of thin air.
The muscles on Titus’s face twitched slightly.
Even though he had witnessed many miracles, this calf appearing out of thin air still caused a slight ripple in his heart!
The number of cows surged exponentially.
Roya casually led men to build ten gunpowder towers with special structures.
The internal space of these towers was extremely dark, with no water flow, leaving only a two-block height, specifically used to spawn Creepers.
The production of gunpowder doubled accordingly.
The ammunition assembly line operated at full capacity.
“My lord!” Silas ran over quickly holding a military communicator, “The signal from the waste liquid treatment area is still there.
Magos Hades is barely holding on over there.
There are too many Walking Corpses, and they are firmly stuck in a sewer hub.” Roya turned to look at Titus: “Take fifty Lamenters veterans wearing Indomitus-pattern Terminators.
Bring plenty of Bolters and milk.
Go fish them out.
If that Magos dies, bring his body back!” “Understood.” Titus nodded.
Five minutes later.
Titus led fifty grey-white Terminators with heavy strides, charging into the deep, dark corridors of the Underhive.
Waste liquid treatment area.
One hundred and ten kilometers southwest.
The air was filled with the pungent stench of corpses and the corrosive smell of acid.
The sewer hub was a huge circular space.
At this moment, it was completely filled with Walking Corpses of Nurgle.
Their bloated and rotting torsos squeezed against each other, stepping on the corpses of their companions as they advanced toward the high platform in the center.
On the high platform.
Magos Hades had only six Servitors left.
The rotary machine guns of the Servitors fired their last bullet, and the barrels were glowing red-hot.
“Initiate self-destruct sequence.” Hades turned his mechanical neck, his electronic eyes sweeping across the surroundings.
His left mechanical arm had been corroded by acid for the most part, and sparks kept spewing outward.
In the center of the high platform, an extremely massive metal creation stood quietly.
That was a contemptor dreadnought.
For this ancient Omnissiah creation, the Skitarii of Magos Hades had all died out.
A Walking Corpse pounced onto the high platform.
Its abdomen exploded, and yellow-green bile splashed onto a Servitor.
The Servitor’s flesh rapidly ulcerated, and it fell straight down.
“Omnissiah, your servant has done his best.” Hades pressed his intact right hand onto the cold leg armor of the contemptor dreadnought, preparing to input the meltdown code.
Even in death, Nurgle’s filth must not touch the relic.
Just then, the roar of Bolters suddenly tore through the dampness of the sewer.
The floodgate on the side of the hub was directly smashed apart by an extremely violent kinetic force.
Fifty-one tall and sturdy Terminators, their armor reflecting a greyish-white cold light, crashed into the group of Walking Corpses.
They stood in a row, with no battle cries and no redundant actions—only absolute slaughter.
The muzzles of the Bolters spat out half-meter-long tongues of fire.
Bolter rounds exploded within the dense formation of Walking Corpses, scattering severed limbs and broken arms along with black blood all over the walls.
The Terminators in the front row swung their power fists.
With a single punch down, several Walking Corpses directly turned into a pool of sludge.
The encirclement was forcibly torn open with a ten-meter-wide path of blood.
Titus walked at the very front.
Wielding a Bolter, he stepped on ankle-deep rotten flesh and strode up the high platform.
The scanner of Magos Hades operated frantically.
Fifty-one Terminators.
This amount of heavy assault troops was enough to fight a small planetary campaign.
An ordinary Chapter could not pull out so many Terminators in one breath.
Were those people from the Lamenters Chapter?
However, he did not continue thinking about it; there were more important matters to resolve now.
“Please help us escort this relic away.
It is a gift from the Omnissiah.” Hades pointed to the Contemptor Dreadnought behind him, his tone revealing absolute piety.
Titus looked along his finger.
His gaze landed on the Contemptor Dreadnought.
The eyes under his helmet narrowed instantly.
This is a good gadget!
“Establish defense lines.
Clear remaining enemies.
Leave no survivors.” Titus issued tactical instructions.
The fifty Terminators immediately dispersed, tightly surrounding the high platform while heavy fire suppressed the Walking Corpses surging from the rear into the dead corners of the corridor.
Titus turned around.
Without looking at Hades, he directly put away his Bolter and grabbed backward with his backhand.
A square, extremely out-of-place iron pickaxe appeared out of thin air in his hand.
Hades looked at that iron pickaxe, the red light in his mechanical eyes flickering.
He did not understand what this Ultramarine wanted to do.
Titus strode to the front of the contemptor dreadnought.
Carrying a fierce wind, the pickaxe head smashed fiercely into the center armor plate of the contemptor dreadnought.
“Bang!” A muffled striking sound rang out.
Black grid cracks instantly appeared on the surface of the ancient ceramite.
“01001000!
What are you doing?!” The mechanical neck of Magos Hades made a sharp frictional sound, and two auxiliary mechanical arms jerked upward.
He fell into chaos between preventing it and crashing.
That was a relic!
Titus completely ignored him.
The second pickaxe blow struck down.
“Bang!” The black cracks spread rapidly, covering the entire body of the mech.
“Stop!
This is blasphemy!
This is treason!” Hades roared out, pulling out the plasma pistol at his waist and aiming at Titus’s back.
But he didn’t dare to shoot.
Because at that moment, a Terminator aimed his muzzle at him!
Titus swung the iron pickaxe and continued hammering.
Not long after, “Pop.” An extremely crisp sound effect reverberated across the high platform.
The contemptor dreadnought, which had survived tens of thousands of years, turned into a puff of white smoke in the eyes of Magos Hades, which were almost bulging out.
It directly dissipated.
No metal residue was left on the spot.
Only seven small metal fragments glowing with a grayish-white luster and flickering with purple light floated in mid-air, slowly rotating.
The plasma pistol of Magos Hades slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
The joints of his two mechanical legs locked up, and his whole body stiffened in place.
Error codes were refreshing frantically in his core processor.
His body completely crashed.
The relic was gone.
Knocked away by a pickaxe.
Titus reached out and scooped the seven fragments into his hidden inventory.
He nodded with satisfaction.
He turned around, looked at Hades in his crashed state, and said in a very calm tone: “Magos, let’s evacuate with us.”